This Is War
by Lyonene
Summary: Courier travels the Mojave in search of her memories & the man who made her lose them. Factor in people she does & doesn't know, plans for Mojave domination and a bunch of robots... maybe staying in the grave would have been a better idea. Book 2 of Fallout: Anthem of Angels series.
1. 18Carat Bad Luck

_A/N: Yes, another Fallout fic. This time however, I skipped putting it in as a cross-over fic. For those of you who have no idea what Fallout is, no worries, this fic can probably stand alone without all that info. For the Fallout geeks, if you haven't played and/or beaten Fallout New Vegas yet, this story will contain major spoilers! You've been warned. Undertaker, Kane, Melina, Shane McMahon, John Cena, and Shawn Michaels are just *some* of the cast I'll be throwing in. _

_Part 2 in the Fallout: Anthem of Angels series._

* * *

**08/18/12**: This chapter has been edited for misspelled words, poor grammar, improved reading, and whatever else I might have changed. No details to the plot have been changed unless they were conflicting.

* * *

**1: 18-Carat Bad Luck**

**The Mojave, 2281**

* * *

It was supposed to be just a simple delivery job. All she had to do was deliver a rather expensive, overly large poker chip that was made of platinum. It shouldn't have been so hard to do.

Somewhere south of Goodsprings however, things had gone very bad…

* * *

"Guess who's waking up over here?"

"Come on man, just get it done."

She could hear several voices; two men seemed to be pushing a third towards 'getting the job over with', and that did not sound too good for her. She wished she could see who was talking, her attackers. Some kind of sack had been placed over her head though, allowing nothing but dim orange light to somewhat pierce though.

"Maybe Khans kill people without looking them in the face, but I ain't a fink, dig?" The third voice sounded smoother, the accent placed the speaker as someone from the Strip.

Panicking now, she began to try freeing her arms, mentally cursing at whatever was tying them together.

"Fine, just kill her already!"

Ears straining over the sounds of her own harsh breathing, she listened as footsteps approached. Her entire body tensed as two hands harshly grabbed at her, hauling her up onto her knees. A second later, the sack was removed. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust but when she did, she could see that two of the men were indeed Khans.

Both of them were looking anywhere but at her.

The third was a man in black slacks and a black and white checked sports coat. His hair was black with a hint of grey coming in at the temples. There was a hint of both pity and amusement in his dark, beady eyes as he surveyed her.

She watched as he reached into his coat, eyes narrowing when he withdrew the poker chip.

"You made your last delivery, kid." He said, sounding almost sincere as he tucked it back out of sight. "Sorry you got twisted up in this scene." His hand did not come back empty; he was now holding a pistol. "From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an 18-carat string of bad luck," he sighed, shaking his head. "But the truth is… the game was rigged from the start."

Before she could muster enough air to scream, he fired the gun.

* * *

"You awake yet?"

Groaning, she pried open one eye, the lid feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds. Then the second. She stared straight ahead, everything was so white it was blinding; and she had to fight the urge to close her eyes again. After several very long moments where she was concerned she might actually be blind, color began coming in as well as the shape of something above her.

It was spinning.

It took another long moment to realize that it was a ceiling fan, flickering in and out of focus.

Groaning, she braced her palms on what was definitely a bed of some sort and pushed herself upright, closing her eyes automatically as everything went spinning; sending a tidal wave of dizziness crashing over her.

"Whoa there, honey, not so fast."

She frowned, hesitantly looking again to find a man crouching besides the bed staring at her intently. She couldn't make out what he looked like too well because he wouldn't hold still, he was out of focus too.

"Easy now." He urged, steadying her gently before moving back and sitting in a chair. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at her.

When everything was back to the way it should be: no spinning, in focus, and no dizzy spells, she stared right back at him. He wore a plain blue work shirt and brown leather pants, most likely Brahmin hide. His face was tanned and lined, but his eyes were kind.

"Relax a second, get your bearings." He suggested, settling back comfortably, giving her time to adjust. "You've been out cold for a few weeks now…"

She tried working up enough saliva to swallow, to ease the dryness in her throat.

When it seemed like she wasn't about to plummet off the bed, the man nodded and smiled. "I'm Doc Michaels, but you can call me Shawn." He introduced himself, holding out his hand to her.

She just stared at it, her brows furrowing together. That action drew her attention to the fact that her forehead felt odd, the skin over her right eye felt tight. Frowning, she reached up to feel it. It felt smooth compared to the rest of her, and it was… odd shaped. A scar.

Shawn had withdrawn his hand and just stared at her, watching as she tried assessing her situation and felt pity stirring in him. "Why don't we check the damage?" He suggested gently, getting her attention again. "Can you tell me your name?"

Her mouth opened as if to say it then she hesitated.

He arched an eyebrow.

"I- I don't remember." The woman admitted, her voice as low and husky as his but definitely more feminine. "I…" Her face screwed up, thinking. "Courier, call me Courier."

"That's not your name." Shawn said slowly, knowing she was probably suffering amnesia. All things considered, he wasn't surprised. But the fact that she had chosen Courier for a name told him that it wasn't totally a bad situation. "It's your job."

"My job?" She echoed, the confusion in her deep blue eyes only growing.

He nodded, standing up and turned to a table behind him. "Yes, your job. I will explain everythin' I know to you but first there are some things we need to go over."

All Courier could do was nod.

"Now I hope you don't mind, but I had to go rootin' around your head a bit." He turned back to her with a stained mirror in his hand, smiling apologetically. "I had to get all the bits of lead out."

Her fingers brushed that odd, patchy, spider webbed scar again. That explained it.

"I'm pretty good with a needle," there was a hint of pride in his tone. "And I sewed you up as best I could, but... you're goin' to have to look and tell me if that's your face." He held the mirror up.

Courier peered into it almost hesitantly, expecting to see a deformed face covered by a network of scars. Instead she found that the majority of damage was limited to the right side of her forehead.

"I used the last of my synthetic skin to make it look better."

She nodded, tracing a finger down the slim nose that apparently belonged to her. The mouth was nice, it looked like it could be friendly, or stingy. Her lips were thin, it could go either way.

Like him, she had tanned skin, she assumed that meant she spent a lot of time outside, though her complexion wasn't as weathered as his, hers still enjoyed the elasticity and smoothness of youth. The eyes were as blue as deep waters, she had seen a lake before, it had been so blue she almost thought it was black, or maybe a very dark purple.

Or maybe that had been a dream.

She couldn't remember.

When Courier just shrugged and nodded, Shawn knew she probably didn't remember or hadn't seen her own face very often in her life. That wouldn't have been such an odd possibility, there were lots of folks who had never seen what they looked like.

"Well Courier," He set the mirror down in his now vacant chair and moved closer to her, gently taking her hands in his. "No sense in you layin' down anymore, let's see if we can get you on your feet."

As soon as he pulled her up into a standing position, the dizziness was back along with things sliding in and out of focus. Panicking, she clutched his hands tightly.

"It'll pass." He soothed, guiding her slowly across the floor. "Just baby steps, honey, that's all."

"What happened to me?" She asked, closing her eyes against the spinning.

"You were shot." Shawn said flatly. "In the head."

That explained a lot.

"Alright, I'm going to let go now. I want you to try crossin' the room and touchin' the wall."

Her eyes flew open as she looked to where he was pointing. She knew in reality it wasn't really that far of a walk, just a few feet… but… it seemed to stretch on and on. Taking a deep breath, she let go of him and toddled forward on wobbly legs.

Shawn watched her, following along slowly just in case she toppled. With a few days of slow but steady exercises, she'd be back delivering letters and packages in no time.

Though it was his professional opinion that she might want to retire, before someone shot her again and this time didn't leave the job unfinished.


	2. Welcome, Jane Doe

**2: Welcome, Jane Doe  
**

"We can't keep callin' you Courier."

Courier looked up from the meal she had been considering when Shawn announced that. She glanced at him across the small table that sat in his equally small kitchen and arched an eyebrow. "I don't remember my name." She reminded him flatly.

Shawn wasn't fazed by her cool manner. After doing several tests designed to test her mental faculties, he had determined that other than suffering amnesia, she was otherwise perfectly healthy and a bit too intelligent for his personal comfort. So far she was quiet and reserved for the most part, but he wasn't sure if that was her natural personality or the result of not having any clue what was going on around her. He had no idea if she would make a recovery, but the fact that she had chosen her profession title as her name was reassuring if not odd.

"Tell me what happened again." She requested, sipping her bottle of purified water, still staring at him.

He had lost count of how many times he had told her how she had wound up with him, she had to of had the information memorized by now. Sighing, he acquiesced. "Victor-"

"He's a robot." She interrupted.

"Victor is a robot. He found you up in the cemetery and then brought you to me." Shawn pushed away from the table, gesturing for her to follow. "Come on."

Curious, Courier followed him. When she realized he was leading her to his bedroom, she balked.

Shawn caught the look on her face and shook his head. "I'm not askin' you to go to bed with me." He said, trying not to chuckle. "I want to show you somethin'."

Turning red from embarrassment, she stepped inside.

"Here, these are yours."

It took her a moment to realize that he was holding out a small duffel bag and after that moment had passed, she took it. "What's in it?

"It looks like a contract for a job, some Stimpaks, caps bobby pins, a 9mm pistol, and some ammo. It was all you had on you when you were brought in. I was hopin' that you would recover your memory but so far, the only signs that you retain any memory at all are the fact that you asked to be called Courier."

"Which you never explained."

"Read the note. I did, hopin' it'd give me information about next of kin or somethin' but…" He shrugged, trailing off. "All it said was something about a platinum chip."

_INSTRUCTIONS_

_Deliver the package to at the north entrance of the New Vegas Strip, by way of Freeside. An agent of the recipient will meet you at the checkpoint, take possession of the package, and pay for the delivery. Bring the payment to Johnson Nash at the Mojave Express agency in Primm._

_Bonus on completion: 250 caps._

_MANIFEST_

_This package contains:_

_One (1) Oversized Poker Chip, composed of Platinum._

_CONTRACT PENALTIES_

_You are an authorized agent of the Mojave Express Package until delivery is complete and payment has been processed, contractually obligated to complete this transaction and materially responsible for any malfeasance or loss. Failure to deliver the proper recipient may result in forfeiture of your advance and bonus, criminal charges, and/or pursuit by the mercenary reclamation teams. The Mojave Express is not responsible for any injury or loss of life you experience as a result of said reclamation efforts._

Shawn watched as she read the delivery order, studying her face for any signs of recognition. When she looked up at him, he wasn't entirely sure what he was reading in her eyes.

"Do you have the chip?" She asked flatly.

"No, it wasn't on you."

"Why didn't you show this to me sooner?"

"Like I said honey, I was hopin' to see signs of improvement before now. This was a last resort to jog your memory." Shawn was still studying her. "Do you remember anythin' at all?"

Courier frowned, glancing back down at the note in her hand. "I don't know… No."

He sighed.

**~!~**

"Diana?"

Courier frowned, shaking her head as she laced the boots Shawn had scrounged for her. "I don't feel like a Dianna."

"Mary?"

"No."

"Jane Doe?"

She pulled a face and shot him a look. "You are not funny, Doc."

Shawn waited until she had finished before reaching for her arm. "This was my wife's." He said softly as he secured a Pip-Boy 3000 around her wrist, watching as it automatically locked itself. "And the clothes, we came from a Vault, Vault 21 actually."

Which explained the large 21 on the back of the dull blue jumpsuit he had given her to wear. She had been running around in cut-off pants and one of his shirts until today, when she had informed him she was leaving. He had procured clothes for her, now she knew who's clothes they had been. "What happened to her?"

"Died."

"I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago, don't be." Shawn waved her off, clearing his throat. He did not feel like discussing his Becky, or how he sometimes wondered if her death might've been prevented if they had just stayed in the Vault. "Fits you good."

"Yeah." Courier looked down at herself, nodding. "Thanks, Doc."

"How about Katy?"

She smiled.

**~!~**

"So what does this thing do?" Courier –no Katy, she mentally corrected herself- asked, tapping the Pip-Boy 3000 screen curiously.

Shawn adjusted his cowboy hat as they strolled down the hill from his house –which also served as the town's medical office- towards the Prospector's Saloon. "It records mapping data, has a radio, will keep track of any information you put into it, reads holodisks… Anythin' you want pretty much. It'll even read your vitals and tell you if you're ill."

"Sounds useful."

"Can be," Shawn stopped, reaching out to grab her by the wrist and turn her so she was facing him. "Katy, listen. I know you want to find those men who tried to-"

"Kill me."

"But I don't think you should. You could just settle down and…" He trailed off at the look on her face. Her eyes were on fire and it was actually a bit frightening. "Goin' down this road will do nothin' but corrupt your soul with vengeance." He warned gently.

She turned from him, looking down on the small town of Goodsprings. "Maybe it was already corrupted to begin with, Doc."

**~!~**

"I don't trust that damn robot, Shawn." Trudy said with a scowl as she set two bottles of beer down on the counter. She ran the Prospector Saloon and was also the unofficial town mayor. "He's been here longer than I have, never interfered in anything until now."

Courier kept her gaze on the bottle before her, knowing she was the now.

"Come on Trudy, Victor hasn't done anythin'." Shawn reprimanded gently. "He's been here all this time and hasn't done a thing to anyone."

"Or for anyone." Trudy hissed, slapping down her rag. "Now no offense-" She looked questioningly at Courier. "I didn't get your name."

"Katy."

"No offense Katy, but that damn robot –Victor- hasn't done a damn thing or spoken hardly to anyone around here in all the time he's been in Goodsprings until he dug you up. It just strikes me funny is all."

Personally, Courier found it a bit odd herself. What the hell was a robot doing in a little ramshackle of a town like Goodsprings anyways? Let alone the graveyard? In the middle of the night no less.

"Of course, it's a damn good thing he did finally make himself useful." Trudy grudgingly ceded. "Else nobody would've known a thing about you, honey." She reached over to sympathetically pat Courier's hand. "Welcome to Goodsprings, Katy."


	3. I Hate People and Robots

**3: I Hate People... and Robots**

"Doc Michaels said you pulled me out of a grave."

Victor wheeled to a stop in front of the Courier, the screen where a head should have been revealing a picture of a black and white smiling cowboy face. "Well howdy there, miss!" He greeted in a voice that was definitely robotic but at the same time… cowboy. "I sure did pull you out. I seen them ol boys leavin' and figured I'd check out what they'd been up too, the lil rascals."

Courier arched an eyebrow. Rascals? She preferred the term murderers. "What'd they look like?"

"Well now… lemme think…"

This cowboy shit was getting old really fast. For the most part, Courier had not felt any overwhelming emotional response to much of anything. She had found some things Shawn said mildly amusing on occasion, but other than that, she felt nothing in any extreme.

This robot had changed all that. She was feeling particularly murderous and was wondering what the quickest way to disable the damn thing was.

"No, can't say I recall. You might ask the town folk though, they might know somethin'."

Courier took a very deep breath, feeling her patience reaching the snapping point. Not saying another word, she stiffly wheeled about and headed up the hill towards the Doc's place.

**~!~**

Shawn was not surprised in the slightest when he heard Katy coming through the door, not moving from his place at the counter where he was contemplating the bottle of whiskey. They had water aplenty but on occasion… a drink stronger than beer sounded right. He did cock an ear, listening as she disappeared into the main room that served as living room, parlor, and anything else he needed it to be. Currently, it was also her temporary bedroom until she was ready to leave.

Which he knew she was, the woman was getting antsy, but she also wasn't about to rush off without finding out anything she could. He was still fairly certain all she was doing was fixing to land herself into a whole heap of trouble, more trouble. As if being shot in the head and left for dead in a shallow grave wasn't trouble enough.

Sighing, he took the shot he had poured himself.

**~!~**

Courier spent the third day of her release from the clinic talking to the townspeople. She had spoken to some old man named Easy Pete who could only tell her that the 'one in the fancy suit seemed to be calling the shots', not much help there.

Then she had tried Trudy again, inside the Prospector's Saloon. She'd met the informal mayor of Goodsprings the other day but when Trudy had gotten to bitching about Victor, Courier had decided to just shut up on the questions. However, she was out of patience to spare and needed answers.

"Yeah, they stopped in here, before the cemetery incident mind you." Trudy said briskly, sidestepping Katy or whoever the hell she had said she was. The woman had shown up in the Saloon without Shawn and headed straight for Trudy. Not that Trudy minded giving the information out, but there was just something… odd about this girl. The mere fact that she had survived a shot to the head was astonishing enough… Trudy had to glance back down at the floor she was attempting to sweep when she realized she had been staring at the scar over Katy's eyes.

Courier was well aware that even with the Doc's synthetic skin, the right side of her forehead, from her eyebrow on up looked… ugly. It could have been worse, but it could have been a lot better. The rest of her face seemed fair enough, just that one spot… it was like an inkblot, only it was a scar. An inkblot shaped scar.

"They were a bunch of freeloaders, they thought they'd be getting a few rounds on the house."

From the derisive snort Trudy followed that sentence with, Courier chanced a guess that they paid up.

"Then one of the Great Khans knocked my radio to the floor 'by accident', and it hasn't been working since."

She did not care about the radio though she did file away the 'Great Khans' part. "Did they say whereabouts they were going?" She demanded through gritted teeth.

Sensing she was in some sort of danger, Trudy nodded and walked behind the bar to put distance between them, putting the broom aside. "They were having an argument about it, but the guy in the checkered coat kept shushing them. Sounded like they came in from the north through Quarry Junction. If that's the case I can't say I blame them for not wanting to go back."

Knowing she might be well on her way through Quarry Junction, Courier asked, "Why not?"

Trudy shot her a 'duh' look. "That whole area's overrun with the kind of critters that just get mad if you shoot 'em. Merchants avoid that whole stretch of 1-15 like it's radioactive. Which it could be for all I know."

"So," Courier steered the conversation back on track. "Where did they go?"

"I didn't hear exactly, but the leader was talking about the Strip. If a fella, or a gal, wants to get there and avoid the 15, he'd have to go east. Take Highway 93 up."

Courier frowned, not liking that bit of information, it sounded very much out of the way. "Thank you." She said curtly, wheeling around and heading for the exit.

Trudy shook her head. She'd be a lot happier when that strange, cold woman was well on her way out of town.

**~!~**

"Leavin'?"

Courier had heard Shawn coming and wasn't startled when she heard his voice behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she nodded.

"Get the info you needed?"

Another nod.

Unless she had too, Shawn had noticed she wasn't keen on talking and wondered if this was a side effect of the amnesia or just her natural thing. "You know where you're going?"

"Trudy said that the I-15 is too dangerous to take and most people are going using Highway 93." She recited from memory. "It's out of the way."

"You'll go through Primm." Shawn remarked, watching as she folded the jumpsuit he had given her into the satchel. She had gone scrounging around the old schoolhouse and found some things to sell at the General Store for a set of leather pants and a matching top, both of them treated to make them more serviceable in gunfights. The idea of her getting shot again set him to grinding his teeth, eyes narrowing. "What're you goin' to do if you get shot again?"

"I won't."

"You probably weren't expectin' it the first time either, Katy."

She frowned.

"Why can't you just stay here?" He walked around the faded but sturdy couch until he was in front of her. "You could start a new life here."

Courier arched an eyebrow at him.

"Think about it, this is your second chance."

"Doc, I need to know what I did that put me on a second chance." She said as gently as she could. Unlike the other residents of Goodsprings, she had no problem tolerating Shawn. She actually liked him. It helped that he seemed to be genuinely concerned about her; and wasn't dropping hints about needing a radio repaired.

Also helping the like factor was the fact that he wasn't a robot.

Robots creeped her out.

Shawn had known she wouldn't stay but he had had to try anyway. He had partially convinced himself that it was for her safety and being a doctor, he was naturally concerned with her welfare. Then there was a small part of him that might've been a little bit attracted to the very strange woman.

Shaking her head, Courier offered a hesitant smile. "Thanks Doc for everything, but I have to do this." She leaned up to kiss his cheek.

Before she could pull away, Shawn grabbed her by the forearms, hauling her upright against him properly. "Katy…"


	4. Courier 6

**A/N:** Sorry for the wait between updates, been hella busy lately, that and working on a Harry Potter story. Finally some of the Courier's background information is coming out (about time Bethesda!) so I've been toying with a backstory for her and one of the characters they cut from the main FO: New Vegas game. FO Geeks, don't crucify me for messing with the story, everyone else: Enjoy!

**4: Courier 6**

All things considered, Courier figured she had probably done a lot more idiotic things in her life. She stared at the ceiling, wishing she didn't feel as good as she did, it would make it a lot easier to get up and leave. Glancing to her left, she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face at the sight of the sleeping Shawn.

She had no idea why he had kissed her, but he probably hadn't been prepared for the outburst it had brought on. She hadn't been prepared for it either. She was writing it off as pent-up sexual frustration, from before the being shot in the head and suffering amnesia.

Courier rationalized her actions quite easily. She had formed an attachment with the only person she somewhat knew since being shot in the head; and had taken advantage of that attachment before leaving.

With that firmly squared away, she gently eased herself out of the bed.

**~!~**

Courier had spent the better part of the morning walking from Goodsprings to Primm, shooting a bunch of Geckos on the way. She had remembered Shawn's warning about them being venomous and hadn't been too keen on being bitten a few miles away from the town. As she drew closer to Primm, she began noting the barricades set up.

"If you don't want your ass blown away, stay on the West side of the wall."

She slowed her pace as a soldier with NCR painted in white on his helmet stepped around the sandbag wall he had been behind. "What's going on?"

"Damn Powder Gangers." He spat, eyes screwed up in a squint as he studied her. "They took over the town. Anyone who even gets close to the bridge gets shot at."

"Who're the Powder Gangers?"

He guffawed, spitting out a nasty stream of tobacco. "Where're you from? You don't know nothin' bout nothin', do you?"

She stiffly shook her head, her fingers twitching violently.

"Well now honey, you just head on down to see the captain, he'll deal with you. Me? I ain't got the time." The soldier puffed out his chest, beginning to saunter back to his post. "I got convicts to watch out for."

Resisting the temptation to shoot him, Courier plowed on. She wasn't going to waste any ammo, not on him. If only she had a knife…

Idly, she wondered if she was naturally a violent person, if this urge to do people bodily harm was something she carried on from the life she couldn't remember. It didn't take a lot of searching to find the small NCR camp, or a genius to notice that a lot of the soldiers milling about were a bit… youngish.

**~!~**

Lieutenant Hayes could only stare at the woman who had just entered his tent, wondering if she was serious. Tiredly, he rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "Primm isn't under our jurisdiction, there's nothing we can do."

"So why are you sitting here?" She asked coolly, ignoring the dark looks she received from his camp aides. "Why waste the manpower babysitting a town you can't officially do anything about?"

"Because, Miss, it is my job to contain the Powder Gangers. If they want to hole up in Primm, that's fine with me, it means they aren't going anywhere else."

"I have business in Primm."

He arched an eyebrow and gestured towards the tent. "Be my guest."

A thin smile graced her colorless lips.

**~!~**

Courier figured it was all a matter of stealth. She had ventured around the boundaries of Primm during the day, careful to keep on the NCR side of the line. She might not have agreed with their dick way of doing things, but that wasn't going to prevent her from letting them shoot at anything that shot at her.

When it began to get dark that was when she made her move. As she was both conserving ammunition and relying on stealth, she had left her guns wrapped in her duffel bag, stored near the NCR camp. Shawn had given her a combat knife and currently she was gripping the handle as she made her way into Primm.

A lit cigarette was quite helpful in guiding her towards her first victim. She knew he was a convict, a Powder Ganger, by the damn outfit he wore. Faction gear was just idiotic, especially when the faction in question was marked for death, and there were only a handful around to protect each other's respective asses.

**~!~**

"Well now, they were headed for Vegas. The one in the sport coat was a bit upset about having to take the roundabout way." Johnson Nash said, staring at the courier before him. He was the Mojave Express agent for the area, and knew all six couriers by sight, including this one. Though the last time he had seen her, she had been heading towards New Vegas with a package. "Mind explaining to me what the hell is going on, River?"

Courier –who had been listening to him while examining a broken robot on the counter of his general store/Express post- turned sharply. "What did you just call me?" She demanded, feeling something tugging at the edge of her memory, something she couldn't latch onto fully.

"Your name, woman!" He barked impatiently, throwing his hands up in the air exasperatedly. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're acting different."

"You know me." She said slowly, running a finger along her bottom lip as she studied the older man with more interest than before.

"Of course I do, I'm your damn boss, ain't I?"

"No clue." Sighing, she began giving him the short version of what had happened.

Johnson could only stare at her, finally examining the scar on her head, clucking his tongue. "You got damn lucky, River. Good thing that robot was there to pull you out."

"Good thing there was a doctor on hand to patch me up." She corrected, thinking of Shawn, and was mildly surprised to feel a little twinge of guilt shooting up her spine. She was going to have to do something about her conscience; it was beginning to get on her nerves.

Johnson remained quiet, just studying her thoughtfully. When time stretched on and she still hadn't said anything, he shook his head. "Maybe Courier 5 knew something we didn't." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Courier 5?"

"You're Courier 6."

"Okay, but what are you talking about?"

He could only stare at her out of wide eyes. "You really did lose your memory of everything, didn't you?"

Courier nodded impatiently, wondering if she was going to have to forcibly make him tell her whatever it was he knew.

"Sit down, River." Johnson instructed, pointing to a table against the far wall. "I'm going to get us a drink, we're BOTH going to need it."

**~!~**

_The fire burned bright, casting shadows on the canyon walls that surrounded them. His low laughter echoed off the rocky walls, coming back to envelope her, bringing a smile to her face as she stared up at her lover. _

"_Mmm…" He rumbled, taking in her nude form beneath him. Reaching out with rough, calloused hands, he skimmed his palms upwards along her ribs, feeling her flesh breaking out with goosebumps. "Cold?" He smirked, cocking one black eyebrow teasingly._

"_You know I'm not." She replied, reaching up to splay her fingers against his bare chest for a brief moment before gripping his heavily tattooed arms. She had never seen tattoos before meeting him, they fascinated her and he knew it. He found it amusing._

_Chuckling, he guided her hands around his neck and bent down, capturing her lips with his._

Courier shot upright, sweat pouring off of her, and looked around as if expecting the man from her dreams to be there. When she was certain she was alone in the room Johnson and his wife, Ruby, had allowed her to sleep in, she relaxed somewhat. Forcing herself to breathe normally, she listened to the noises around her.

The town of Primm still seemed to be celebrating its recovered freedom from the Powder Gangers, she could hear the townspeople still partying it up outside, lights from the many bonfires sending shadows dancing over the walls of the relatively bare room. In the next room over, she could hear gentle snoring from the Nash couple.

Making no sound, she rolled off the cot, and padded over to the open window, allowing the cool night air to cool her burning skin. She tried to hold onto the dream, but it was fading already. All but the man's voice. It had been deep, a dark drawl that even now was causing her heart to speed up.

Pressing her forehead against the windowpane, she closed her eyes and thought back to her conversation with Johnson.

"_No, Courier 5 seen your name next on the list and asked me if you were really still kicking around_." Johnson had said, scratching his head bemusedly. "_And I told him of course you were, why wouldn't you be? Well, he insisted you take the package. 'Give the job to her, let Courier 6 carry the package', he says. Almost like he was expecting the Mojave to sort you out. Seemed like he was holding a grudge or something against you, the way he spoke. He left after that, ain't seen him since_."

Someone who had known her, known her name, and about her. And who apparently didn't like her. Sighing, she raised her head again to look out the window. Just another piece of a puzzle she couldn't fit together.

**A/N:** So now Courier has three names. Courier (the name she called herself when she woke up), Katy (from Shawn), and now her apparent real name: River.


	5. Whiskey Rose and the Legion

A/N: For the FO geeks, I have been taking liberties with how the game is played, because going back and forth across the Mojave just seems... unreasonable, for the story. For everyone else, hope you enjoy!

**5: Whiskey Rose and the Legion**

The Mojave Outpost was an outpost of the NCR. Courier still had yet to be impressed by the NCR. So far, she found them lacking in both brains and balls. From what she had learned from all the very pissed off caravan traders, the roads were currently impassable, so they weren't letting the caravans through. Instead, forcing them to wait it out, and not really doing anything to clear the roads, all at the same time.

Of course the roads were complete crap. She had come to a crossroads, East led to Nipton, which was where she apparently needed to pass through. West had brought her here. She had avoided going East when she had seen smoke, lots of smoke, rising off the town. Figuring the Outpost might know something, she had hauled herself up the long, and very hot road.

An encounter with a gang, some mad as hell ants that were bigger than she was, and mutated scorpions –also larger than she was- had left her going 'no shit' when she was told the roads were too dangerous to travel.

Along the way, she came across several caravans set a ways off the road that had obviously been attacked, some sporting graffiti that left her with yet another round of questions and no answers.

_You Can Go Home, Courier_

_The Divide_

_Courier Six?_

_Lonesome Road_

None of these were ringing a bell with her, besides Courier Six, which she now knew was her. The Divide… what the hell was that? And where was home? Most important of all, who the fuck was leaving these messages? Was this person responsible for destroying the caravans? She had pushed it to the back of her mind and continued on.

The soldiers were as young and incompetent as the others she had encountered; it was the Rangers that made Courier mind her manners. They all looked like they had each individually seen more action than all of the soldiers combined.

An encounter with Ranger Jackson got her nothing but a 'if you're looking for work', which she wasn't. If they couldn't spare the men power to go clear the roads, why should she? Even with his offer of supplies 'falling off the back of a wagon', if she needed something that she couldn't barter for, she'd steal it.

Upon inquiring about Nipton, she was directed to Ranger Ghost, which had to be some kind of sniper joke. Then Courier seen the woman, who was extremely pale, almost albino, including her hair; and yes, she had a sniper rifle.

Ghost had made it clear that she really had no idea what was going on down there, but had been watching for the past two days, the burning had only started the night before, but it looked like it was reaching its peak. Then she had asked Courier to check into it.

Courier had agreed, but only because she had to go that way eventually.

**~!~**

Lacey looked up from behind the counter when the mess hall doors swung open. Of course she was expecting another solider, or one of the Rangers, but instead she found a stranger. She perked right up, she was really tired of nobody new coming through. So far, her usually company was a woman who was always drinking. "Hi there! What can I getcha?" She asked eagerly.

"Information?"

"Oh…"

"And a drink."

Lacey perked right back up.

**~!~**

"Unless you're buying me a drink, get on moving." Melina Perez said evenly, not bothering to look up when a shadow covered the game of solitaire she was playing with her partial deck of cards. Instead of ambling away like most people did after her less than warm greeting, this unfortunate soul dropped down in the chair opposite of her. Frowning, she looked up, her brown eyes narrowing beneath the brim of her faded white cowboy hat. "Who the hell are you?"

"Katy." The woman replied, setting a bottle of whiskey between them, and a shot glass in front of her. "I hear you run a caravan."

"I did, but now I ain't got a caravan." Melina snorted, not even bothering asking for a glass of whiskey as she helped herself. "So what do you want, Katy?"

"I need a guide. I've got to get to New Vegas."

"Even if I wanted to go, I couldn't. My caravan license is keepin' me stuck here." Melina snorted, less than happy about that. "If I could…" Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I would find out what happened to my caravans, they never made it to their drop-offs, I think they…" She trailed off, clearing her throat and downed the shot, pouring the other.

"If you could leave here, you could find out." Katy said thoughtfully, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear.

Melina nodded, having run this through her mind more than once.

"So… all that's keeping you is a piece of paper?"

"Yep." Melina paused, having heard the hint of derision in the other woman's tone. "Well what would you do if you were me?" She demanded, not liking feeling on the spot.

"I'd burn the fucking paper and say to hell with it. It's not like you're leaving here with a wagon."

Katy had a point.

**~!~**

"Looks like Nipton got sacked." Melina commented, taking a drink from her ever present flask as they approached the town.

"Do you ever stop drinking?" Courier asked, arching an eyebrow at her companion. She felt zero remorse about recruiting the woman, and manipulating her into coming. She needed someone who knew the layout of the Mojave since her memory apparently was still on the fritz, and Melina had fit the bill.

"Nope. I'll drink beer if I have too, but give me whiskey and we'll be just fine." Melina replied. "Guys back home used to call me 'Whiskey Rose', cause of the roses in my cheeks after I got to drinkin'."

"How'd that go?"

"I'd whoop their asses."

Courier had learned quickly that Melina was a fair shot with her rifle as well, though she made a lot of off-hand remarks and could go from cheerful to bitch in a blink of an eye. "That's a flag."

Tilting her hat back, Melina followed Katy's gaze and frowned. "That's not good, that's the Legion's flag."

"The Legion?"

"You haven't heard of the Legion? Honey, where the hell are you from?" Melina shook her head, reaching back to tighten the rawhide strip holding her wavy dark brown, nearly black, hair back. "The Legion are a bunch of crazies, led by king crazy who calls himself Caeser."

Courier didn't say anything.

"They've been movin' into the Mojave, word is there's going to be a war between them and the NCR."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll wipe each other out."

Melina grinned. "I'll drink to that."

**~!~**

Vulpes Inculta had once been known as Ted DiBiase Jr, though not many people knew that outside of him and his now dead tribe. He had been recruited into the Legion as a child, and had thrived. He had survived the training, he had been strong enough to make it, and eventually was made a Legionary, a soldier. He had worked his way up the ranks, made several tactical battle decisions that had worked, and was now the leader of the Frumentarii.

He stood on the steps of what had been town hall, a pair of wide black goggles over his eyes to keep ash and smoke from irritating them. He heard one of his soldier's announcing the presence of two women and waved a lazy hand. They did not attack the innocent, and would not attack these women unless they proved to be corrupt, like the residents of Nipton had been.


	6. Cold, Cold Heart

**A/N:** To you beautiful reviewers: when I first decided to write this out, I knew I HAD to add Melina, I could see her in the role of Cass (the actual Fallout character) so easily! As for Ted... Well, we'll see. Reminder: Courier is also known as Katy and River, so when you see those names, it's her and how she is known/viewed by other people.

**6: Cold, Cold Heart**

"That is disturbing." Melina finally said as they approached the center of town, taking in the men hanging from crudely built crosses. "The Legion crucifies those they want to make an example of, and I would really like to go now."

"And miss out on the excitement?" Courier replied, keeping her eyes trained on the man who was now approaching them, halting a few feet from him. He looked like he was wearing a gold-plated skirt, and even she took a second look at his muscular legs, nudging Melina when she let out a low whistle. She waited for him to speak first.

"Don't worry," He began, instantly ruffling both women's feathers with his condescending tone. "I won't have you lashed to a cross like the rest of these degenerates. It's useful that you happened by."

"Well aren't we the fuckin' lucky ones?" Melina muttered under her breath, ignoring the cautionary look Courier shot her.

He ignored her. "I want you to witness the fate of the town of Nipton, to memorize every detail. And then, when you move on? I want you to teach everyone you meet the lesson that Caeser's Legion taught here, especially any NCR troops you run across."

Shifting from one foot to the other, Courier simply stared. He spoke in calm, cool tones, with an easy air of authority. She did not like him. "And just what 'lesson' is it that you've taught here?" She finally asked, not bothering to aim for tones like his, instead allowing the sarcasm to seep through.

"Who's the sarcastic moron now?" Melina murmured with a shifty grin as she uncapped her flask. When the Legion man glanced at her –at least she thought he did, those sunglasses he hid behind made it hard to tell- she toasted him before taking a swallow.

**~!~**

Ted, no _Vulpes_, mentally calculated how long it would take him to cram that flash down the obviously semi-intoxicated woman's slender throat. "That they are weak, and we are strong?" He demanded, shifting his attention back to the other woman. The woman that exuded a quiet power and self-awareness, it was a shame that she was only a lowly female. "This much was known already."

The woman merely stared at him, her head tilting to the side a fraction as she considered him. Ted might have smiled at that if he were capable of such a thing. "The depths of their moral sickness, their dissolution… Nipton serves at the perfect object lesson."

"And what did Nipton do to deserve becoming the object lesson?"

"Nipton was a wicked place, debased and corrupt." Ted shook his head almost regretfully, such waste, sheer waste in this town. "It served all comers, so long as they paid. They did not care who they served, be it Powder Gangers, Legion, or NCR –the people of Nipton did not care. It was a town of whores."

The woman shrugged slightly, as if to say 'and which town isn't?'

"For a paltry sum, the town agreed to lead those is had sheltered into a trap. Only when I sprang it did they realize they were caught inside it, too."

"You double-crossed, 'em." The drunk shook her head, frowning slightly. "Everyone in town?"

"Yes…" Ted said, not hiding the relish in his voice. He had enjoyed his work, spreading the message of Caeser, and punishing the tainted folk of Nipton. "And herded them to the center of the town and told them their sins, the foremost being disloyalty."

**~!~**

"That is just… wrong." Melina remarked, watching from beneath her hat as the Legion soldier's ran East, impressed against her will at how they formed a perfect unit as they ran. Anyone else running like that, she would have called a coward, but the way these men moved, it wasn't cowardice but purpose.

Courier nodded, turning to stare up at the bodies on the crosses thoughtfully. Vulpes Incultas, as he had eventually introduced himself as, had explained the 'lottery'. Whoever drew the lucky ticket had been set free, those who hadn't… some were killed, others were forced to pick who would be strung up… She shook her head. In a way, what Vulpes had said made sense, sick, but true.

Nipton had sold out people they had been sheltering for money, and then the people had turned on each other in an effort to possibly survive. If the Legion's aim was to prove that humanity wasn't worth a damn, they were doing a great job so far.

"They're still alive." Melina said, oblivious to her companion's thoughts, studying the poor bastards hanging before her. "Course, lettin' down would probably kill them, more slowly then they're going now." She shook her head in pity.

"Leave them."

"What? You can't be serious? This is just… cruel, it's inhumane, Katy." Melina protested. She might have been a bit of a drunk, and could be fairly cold, but even she had limits.

Courier stared at Melina thoughtfully, seeing the hesitation and doubt written in those large brown eyes. No doubt Melina was questioning coming along, and she finally nodded. "Fine."

Melina winced as one by one, Katy put a bullet in each still breathing man's forehead.

**~!~**

"Well hell, this is a mighty convenient location!" Melina laughed, pointing at the rundown ranch style house that was getting closer with every step they took on the broken highway. The sun was setting and as much as she enjoyed being out of the Outpost and traveling again, she didn't really fancy sleeping under the stars, or with the Geckos and Bark Scorpions. "And look, it's right by where we need to go." She pointed, drawing Katy's attention towards the road that branched off from the highway. "That's Highway 93-"

Courier was listening intently now, remembering Trudy telling her people took this way to New Vegas.

"And it'll run right into Novac and Highway 95, which in turn leads to New Vegas."

Nodding, Courier approached the desolate building, looking for some sign of life inside. Chances were, it being set just a ways off the highway like it was, it had been picked clean and whoever had inhabited had moved on long ago. But she was writing off the possibility of squatters or critters either.

After sending the people on the crucifixes into the hereafter, they had scavenged what they could from Nipton, her mood increasing when she found more than enough ammo to replace what she had lost for those mercy killings. They had also encountered a lottery 'survivor', a mouthy son of a bitch who had called himself Boxcars, and demanded they give him Med-X for his broken legs –which had coincidentally, been broken by the Legion, lucky survivor indeed. In exchange for the Med-X, he would tell them about the 'fancy sonbitches' who had passed on through.

Reluctantly, Courier had dosed him. He had told her that they were headed to Novac. Yet another place she either didn't know or couldn't recall. Fortunately, Melina announcing she knew how to get there cemented Courier's decision to talk her into coming, as well as pacifying her by putting the men on the crosses out of their misery.

"Goddamn it smells like Brahmin shit!"

That snapped Courier out of her reverie, and made her sigh. So much for the possibility of sneaking in and taking anyone or anything that might in there by surprise.

**~!~**

It was amusing, the way fate played out. She was inside his house, sitting with some drunk around his stove, both of them sharing in the warmth from the logs they had used to get it going. He had abandoned the place months ago, having decided that the life of a Brahmin rancher was not for him. He preferred eating steak over raising it.

Moving silently, he neared the boarded window, staring in through a gap between planks. The drunk had taken off her cowboy hat and was busy finger-combing her luxuriant hair, cursing out both the NCR and the Legion in a sarcastic albeit cheerful manner.

River, his River, was staring into the merrily burning fire, her head bowed so he couldn't see her face. Her own black hair was pulled back from her face though a few tendrils escaped the leather string she used, causing her to impatiently push them back behind her ears.

He almost chuckled.

As if she sensed she was being watched, River's head turned sharply, towards where he had been standing only a moment ago.

With baited breath, he waited to see if she would come investigate, if she would think someone was out there or if she was being paranoid. He almost wished she would, but dreaded it at the same time, knowing a confrontation would lead to one of them dead.

When nothing happened, when he didn't hear a change in the ramblings of the drunk, or chairs scraping against the wooden floor, he chanced another look.

River was now watching her companion, those blue eyes –eyes he had told her more than once reminded him of dark waters- fastened intently on the other woman's face. He could see the scar over her right eyebrow, curious as to how she had gotten it, who she had pissed off.

Shaking his head, he backed away.


	7. A Dino DeeLite Story, Part 1

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews guys! As for those wondering about the mystery man, if you haven't already figured it out, I'm not telling! But I will say the man who had been watching Courier and Melina through the window is the same guy Courier had a dream about in Primm, no not Shawn. Shawn's beautiful backside is still back in Goodsprings.

**7: A Dino Dee-Lite Story, Part 1.**

Novac had a dinosaur.

Katy apparently could only stare up at the statue of the T-Rex, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand.

Melina, who had seen it before on her way through, merely stood off to the side, sipping a bottle of purified water. It was simply too hot to drink whiskey, or even beer, today. She knew better than to risk dehydration, especially since they probably wouldn't be lingering.

She studied Katy thoughtfully, wondering if she should've asked the woman more about herself. First impressions… were not accurate in this case. Her first impression of Katy had been of a quiet, intelligent, and maybe even a bit sly, but fairly decent.

Now she wasn't so sure.

It wasn't that Katy was downright mean or cruel, but she was just… indifferent. She was cold. Melina's mind grasped onto the word she was looking for: pragmatic. Katy didn't waste time with too many overt emotional displays, she was constantly aware of what was going on around them, she monitored ammo usage as well as rationed her water… it was weird.

When Katy seemed to of had her fill of the dinosaur, Melina offered a friendly, hesitant smile.

Katy just arched an eyebrow.

**~!~**

"Well howdy Miss Katy!"

"That robot is a cowboy… and it is talking to you." Melina said uncertainly. They had just rented a room at the Dino Dee-Lite hotel from a too talkative woman named Jeannie May Crawford. Upon walking out of the open gate that sheltered the motel's rundown property, a robot just rolled up to them, startling Melina.

"Victor, are you following me?" Courier asked with an arched eyebrow, wondering what the hell this annoying case of metal was doing. She hadn't forgotten her encounter with him in Goodsprings, and still found the robotic bastard annoying. His mere presence was annoying her. She dimly recalled Trudy mentioning how Victor had been in Goodsprings for years, never left, never did much, and now he was leaving? What the hell…

"No ma'am, Miss Katy." Victor replied. "I figured I would have me an adventure, so here I am."

"Here you are." She dryly agreed, folding her arms over her chest.

"Might I ask what you're doin' all the way out here, Miss Katy? Still hunting them varmints that shot you?"

Courier was well aware of Melina's sudden interest in her, ignoring the questioning stare she was receiving. "That among other things."

"Ah, well, maybe our paths will cross again!"

She sincerely hoped not, but managed a tight smile and a half nod, gesturing for Melina to follow her. She had people to question.

Melina fell into step beside her. "What was that about Katy?" She demanded, realizing again just how little she knew about this woman. "You were shot? We're hunting people who shot you?"

Halting, Courier turned and pointed to the ink blot scar over her right eye, watching as Melina drew closer to examine it. "I am, was, a courier for the Mojave Express." She explained in a monotone. "I was going through Goodsprings with a package and some men caught me. I was shot in the head and they left me for dead. That robot back there," She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "Victor, he found me, dug me out of the shallow grave they put me in, and the local doctor patched me up."

Melina was silent as she contemplated all that, almost absent-mindedly uncapping her flask and taking a draw from it. "So if you're a courier, how come you need a guide? You should know the Mojave fairly well."

"I don't though, I don't know anything about this place."

Melina's eyes narrowed skeptically.

Smiling humorlessly, Courier tapped the side of her head. "Amnesia. I woke up not remembering a damn thing."

"Nothin' at all?"

"Nothing except the fact that I was a courier. Couldn't tell you my name, couldn't tell you about the package, couldn't even tell you where I was born. Still can't actually."

"So… Katy isn't your real name?"

"No. The doctor in Goodsprings gave it to me." Courier hesitated, wondering why she was bothering to explain all of this. Melina didn't exactly need to know, it wasn't any of her business, but at the same time… it felt kind of… good, to say all this to another person.

"You know what, how bout you just explain it to me later, back in the room, over a bottle of whiskey?" Melina said with a hesitant sort of grin. "Because I have a feelin' this is going to be one interestin' story."

Courier nodded.

**~!~**

Manny Vargas heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, turning when the door behind him opened. He was a sniper, an ex-NCR soldier, who had found work here in Novac. During the day he would sit in the roof of the T-Rex's mouth and keep an eye on the road. Anyone who got to close, and looked like they had bad intentions were greeted to the town of Novac with a bullet between their eyes.

"Working." He grunted, studying the woman out of the corner of his eye. Her plain black leather pants and black tank top didn't really single her out as affiliated with any faction or gang, she looked like another Mojave wanderer. Though when she turned to face him, he had to amend that to: another Mojave wanderer with killer eyes, literally. They were stunning, but almost deadly in the way they were piercing him. "Can I help you, lady?"

"The man that came by here a few weeks ago, in a black and white sport coat," she said without preamble. "I'm told you spoke to him."

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I want to know where he was going."

"What for?"

"Business."

Manny frowned, glancing at her briefly. "You can talk to me after my shift is over, I got this day shift, Cena has the night shift. When Cena comes on shift, you can talk to me then. I'll probably be in my room at the motel."

"Who's Cena?"

"Cena? He's my- was my- buddy." Manny said, sounding uncomfortable. "He's been going through a rough time lately, we don't talk all that much anymore."

She made a noise that he couldn't understand, so he didn't say anything.

**~!~**

"Iguana bits."

Courier stared at the stick, with said bits on it, wondering just where Melina had scrounged their supper up. Hesitantly, she reached out for it and brought the concoction to her nose, inhaling.

Trying and failing at hiding her amusement, Melina purposefully ripped into hers, her cheeks bulging with the large bite. "Mmm, mmm, mmm…"

Grimacing, Courier followed suit, finding it to be rather edible. Much better than the half-assed attempt they had both given in trying to make bark scorpion casserole. Now THAT had been disgusting, and possibly deadly as they had just been guessing what parts weren't going to kill them, literally, from the inside out.

"So… you were gonna tell me a story?" Melina prompted when she no longer had a full mouth, but a half full mouth, able to finally talk past the chunks of meat. "You were shot in the head…" She prompted.

"I was shot in the head, by the man I'm looking for now."

"The guy in the black and white checked sports coat." Melina recited, now understanding why Katy, or was it Courier, asked that whenever they ran into other people.

Courier nodded, ripping another strip of meat from the stick, settling down in an old chair that wobbled threateningly under her weight while Melina took the bed they would be sharing later. "He shot me in the head, and I think took the Platinum Chip."

"Do you know what was so special about that chip?"

"Besides the fact that it was probably really expensive? No, I don't even remember who placed the order. Amnesia, like I told you earlier."

"And the doctor in Goodsprings gave you the name Katy, right?" Melina considered that. "Goodsprings, Goodsprings… Doc Michaels, he the fella?"

Courier nodded, closing her eyes as her last encounter with the good doctor flashed before her.

"Yeah, Shawn."

"Shawn, hmm?" Melina smiled teasingly. "I will admit, Doc Michaels was pretty good lookin' last time I seen him. He can patch me up anytime. You and the doc… know each other pretty well, eh?" She asked slyly. When she seen the scowl forming on the other woman's face, she changed topic quickly. "You said Katy wasn't your name? Do you know your real name, or do you prefer Katy?"

"I prefer Courier, actually."

"Courier? But isn't that your job?"

"Was my job, yes, and I don't know why I prefer it, I just do."

"And you don't know anythin' about yourself? From before I mean?"

Courier hesitated, her eyebrows knitting together as she remembered Nash Johnson's words. She didn't know why she felt the urge to lie to Melina, but she did. "No." She murmured, shaking her head. "Nothing."

**A/N:** Yes, another one. For the Fallout geeks, I replaced Boone with John Cena.


	8. A Dino DeeLite Story, Part 2

A/N: I had to edit this chapter because I used Benny instead of Shane, sorry for any confusion!

**8: A Dino Dee-Lite Story, Part 2.**

Manny Vargas was a swine, Courier thought as she watched him walk away from her, heading for his shift in the mouth of the T-Rex. She had caught him the night before –on her second night in Novac- to ask about the guy in the suit, and Manny had told her that he indeed knew of who she was talking about.

He had also informed her that the information came at a price.

According to Manny, the little town of Novac made its living off the old REPCONN Test Site, scavenging for old scrap metal and whatnot then selling it to the traders that were constantly passing through. As of late, the townfolks hadn't been able to go to the old site because of a sudden presence of ghouls, feral ghouls.

He would give her the information if she would go check the situation out, and clear out the ghouls.

Well fuck that.

So Courier waited until he had swapped spots with Cena, now there was an interesting man. She hadn't tried approaching him, he didn't look all that approachable. Melina had made the remark that he could 'scare the piss out of a bark scorpion' with his piercing, turbulent blue eyes.

As if sensing he was being watched as he emerged from the side door of the Rex, Cena glanced at her, the stoic expression on his face never changing. He looked at her, then past her.

He always wore the same thing. Army fatigue pants and a white, or what had been a white, tee shirt. When he emerged from the door, he would slide on a pair of sunglasses, hiding those cold eyes. And Courier had yet to see him without the red beret he wore, some sort of insignia pinned to it. Then there was the sniper rifle he never appeared without, he was an intimidating man.

But she wasn't overly interested in Cena at the moment, she was more interested in the partner he was trading off with.

When Cena had disappeared into his own motel room, and it looked like no one else was going to be venturing across the lot anytime soon, Courier headed towards Manny's room.

Picking the lock was a very simple matter, it was on old fashioned deadbolt. She could have broken the door with one kick, but she wasn't looking to make trouble for herself. She also wasn't looking to go visit a feral ghoul infested building and solve this town's problems. If they wanted to go back to their scavenging bad enough, they would handle their own damn issues.

Once inside, she quietly closed the door behind her, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light that filtered through the closed, dusty curtains. The room was mostly the same as the one she and Melina were sharing. It was fairly bare, a large bed, a stand, a table in the far corner… she knew there was a tiny bathroom off of the room. On the table was a half-eaten can of pork 'n beans, looking like it had sat there for quite some time. But it was the computer on the far end of the table that held her interest, especially when she seen that it actually worked.

When she had pulled up the messages, Courier bent down to read.

**_Manny,_**

**_You made the right choice, putting us up and keeping it quiet. This weasel Shane's been twitchy since we stole that package from his boss. Making me nervous as hell. But when I found out we'd be passing through on our way to Boulder City, I was sure we could count on you. Let the other Khans say what they want. I know where you loyalty is._**

**_One day you'll remember when you belong, and your brothers and sisters will welcome you back like you never left. You know where to find us._**

**_McMurphy_**

Frowning, Courier leaned back, reaching up to dig the heel of her hand into her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut.

"_You made your last delivery, kid." The man in the black and white checked sports coat said, his eyes almost sympathetic as he stared down at her. His hair was black, there were a bit of grey coming in at the temples, all in all a rather handsome face, for a kill. "Sorry you got twisted up in this scene." His hand which had disappeared into the coat, now came back; holding a pistol. "From where you're kneeling, it must seem like an 18-carat string of bad luck," He sighed, shaking his head. "But the truth is… the game was rigged from the start."_

_**~!~**  
_

"You know something, Courier," Melina said when she seen the other woman approaching, sitting comfortably on the edge of an old highway bridge, her feet dangling down towards the remains of what had been the highway some twenty feet below. She had taken to calling 'Katy' by the her preferred name of Courier rather easily, it was all the same to her. "You should try talkin' that Cena fellow into comin' along with us."

"What the hell for?" Courier demanded, easing herself so she was straddling the foot wide ledge, one foot braced on the concrete at her level, the other dangling as well.

"He's a mighty fine shot is what the hell for." Melina replied with a sniff, taking a sip from her flask and then offered it, arching an eyebrow when Courier actually accepted the drink. Frowning, she leaned forward to study Courier thoughtfully, finally nodding. "You got into Vargas' room I take it."

Courier nodded morosely, taking a long pull from the flask.

"Get your information?"

Another nod, another pull.

Melina snorted, reaching over to take back her flask. "Enough already, save some for me!"

The two women sat there in amicable silence for awhile, Courier looking out over the bridge towards the direction of New Vegas, Melina shading her eyes –for once without her hat- with her hand and staring towards the T-Rex.

"So he's a good shot, eh?" Courier finally asked.

"I say here last night and watched him, he kept pickin' off anything that came to close to town, dead on." Melina said admiringly. "And he's not too bad on the eyes either, if you catch my meanin'."

"Hm."

**~!~**

Courier's first impression of John Cena once she had formerly introduced herself was that he was a seriously troubled man. He was also a man of few words, which was a trait in people she admired, generally. With him, it was unnerving because it looked like there was a lot behind those disturbed blue eyes that needed to be said.

He had said, in short clipped words, was that he was a former NCR sharpshooter –hence the sniper- from the 1st Recon Sniper battalion –which she had no idea what the hell that meant other than he was apparently very good at his job.

When Courier asked him what the hell he was doing wasting his talents in a place like Novac, he had shrugged her off.

So instead, she began asking around town, piecing together the puzzle that was John Cena. Melina helped with that, a bit more curious about the guy then she probably should have been. At least until they found out that he had had a wife, who had gone missing, and then Melina's interest cooled a bit.

Courier's second impression of John Cena was that he was still a bit of a troubled man, but now she could understand some of that trouble. But there was also a lurking suspicion that the bitterness she seen in his eyes went past his missing wife, Carla.

"Lady, if you want to talk to me, you can come up at night when I'm on shift." He said after regarding her for a moment, having quietly heard her out about him traveling with her and her companion.

Courier could already see this was going to lead to another favor for a favor type situation but nodded.

**~!~**

"If you want me to come with you, then I want you to do something for me."

_Why am I not surprised_, Courier thought as she stared thoughtfully at John, gesturing with one hand for him to go on.

"I want to know what happened to my wife, who…" He stopped, his mask slipping for a brief moment before returning to its stoic composure. "I want to know who here wanted her gone."

"And if I find out, you'll come with me?" She asked, arching an eyebrow. This seemed too easy.

He nodded.

"So… when I find out… what then?"

John pulled the red beret off of his head, revealing closely cropped brown hair, and held the hat out to her. "When you find the one, bring them out in front of the T-Rex during my shift, where the beret so I know you've found him, or her."

She instantly understood what he meant to do and nodded. "Just one thing?"

It was his turn to arch the eyebrow.

"Don't miss and shoot me by mistake."


	9. A Dino DeeLite Story, Part 3

**A/N**: Yes, the man in the black and white checkered coat is Shane :) And his story is coming, slowly, I promise! Devin, as for Randy Orton being in the role Cena currently occupies, I could so see him playing it too! I debated on it for awhile, but... I have other plans for Mr. Orton :) Now onto the story!

**9: A Dino Dee-Lite Story, Part 3.**

The last person Courier ever expected to glean information from was No-bark Noonan. She had asked around Novac about Carla Cena and gotten a load of gossip rather than fact. Carla apparently did not like Novac, she had come from New Vegas, she had been very beautiful… all useless information.

Manny Vargas' information had been the least helpful but probably the most amusing. He had obviously hated Carla, and he had even said he had tried talking to John about her, stating that she had probably run off. She also got the impression that Manny cared about John as more than just a friend.

But when she had reluctantly chatted up the town crazy, she had actually found interesting tidbits in his ramblings. Information such as there had been a ruckus in the motel lobby the night Carla had come up missing.

So Courier had headed back to the Dino Dee-Lite motel lobby, where Jeannie May Crawford could usually be found. Unsurprisingly, Jeannie was there, just as cheerful and useless as ever. Politely, Courier rephrased her questions, and wound up offending the woman to the point of Jeannie storming out. Which suited Courier fine.

Humming tunelessly under her breath, she walked around the counter that Jeannie usually manned, eyeballing all the old T-Rex dolls with a snort. There was nothing out of the ordinary, and from what she could observe, no sign in the lobby at all that a ruckus had occurred at all.

She was turning to leave when something beneath her foot creaked. Dropping down to a crouch, Courier pulled away the dirty old rug, revealing a safe. Huffing, she moved until she was lying flat on the floor, her knees bent and feet in the air to avoid banging them into the counter. It took her longer than she wanted to crack it, really not too keen on being found like this if Jeannie decided to come back.

With a satisfying click, the lock gave, and Courier opened the door. Inside was a bag that when she lifted, made quite a bit of clinking noises, caps she was assuming. There was also a slip of paper, which she pulled out and sat upright to read, her eyes narrowing at every line.

**We, the representatives of the Consul Officiorum, have this day bargained and purchased from Jeannie May Crawford of the township of Novac the exclusive ownership and sale of the slave Carla Cene for the sum of one thousand bottle caps, and those of her unborn child for the sum of five hundred bottle caps, the receipt whereof is hereby acknowledged. We warrant the slave and her young to be sound, healthy, ad slaves for life. We covenant with the said, Jeannie May Crawford, that we have full power to bargain and sell said slave and her offspring. Payment of an additional five hundred bottle caps will be due pending successful maturation of the fetus, the claim to which shall be guaranteed by possession of this document.**

**M. Scribonius Libo Drusus et al.  
Administrators of M. Licinius Crassus, Consul Officiorum ab Famulatus**

Feeling no guilt at all, Courier slipped the caps into her satchel before folding the note and putting it in her pocket.

**~!~ **

"You're lookin' grimmer than usual." Melina commented as she watched Courier prepare to go out, sitting on the bed with her back to the wall, her legs comfortably stretched out before her.

"Do I?" Courier asked without really caring, pocketing John's red beret.

"Yep."

"Well, don't wait up for me." She said after a moment, turning to face Melina, not surprised to find Melina was swaying even while sitting, knowing Melina would be passed out by the time she returned. "We're leaving in the morning."

"With John?"

"Yes."

Melina smiled slightly.

**~!~ **

"Where is it you're taking me, Katy?" Jeannie demanded, huffing as she tried to keep up with the younger woman's pace. The strange woman had come knocking in the middle of the night, saying she needed to talk about something. Jeannie was admittedly a nosy person, curious and always ready for a parcel of gossip to monger about.

"Out here, I don't want to be overheard."

Muttering under her breath, Jeannie reluctantly kept up, wondering how Katy could even see. It wasn't completely dark, but dark enough, and Lord only knew what else was out here to trip them up besides broken chunks of concrete, rusted bits of metal… insects.

She spared a quick glance up at the T-Rex, feeling marginally better that Cena was on duty, he would make sure nothing happened to her.

When Katy finally stopped, she let out a sigh of relief. "So what's all this hubbub about?"

Katy merely stared at her, pulling something out of her pocket.

Frowning, Jeannie peered down at the object in Katy's hand, watching as Katy put it on her head. "That looks like…" She was totally at a loss when Katy stepped back. "What on earth-"

Courier watched dispassionately as Jeannie May Crawford's last sentence was cut short as a bullet pierced her skull, damn but John was a good shot, Melina hadn't been exaggerating. Nudging the body with the toe of her boot, she snorted and then hocked a wad of spit on the dead woman's face.

Plucking the beret off her head, she kept it clenched in her fist as she headed back towards the T-Rex, a bit surprised when she seen Cena walking out to meet her.

"Jeannie May Crawford?"

"Yes." She held out his beret, watching him place it back on his own head. "I found this in her safe." She added, pulling the note from her pocket and held it out.

John took it from her, unfolded it and began reading by the light of the moon and stars. If he was thinking anything, or even feeling anything, he did not show. Finally, he just crushed the note in his fist, holding it for a moment before letting it fall to the ground.

"You'll come with me?"

John stared at her, his cold blue eyes revealing nothing as he studied her. "This isn't going to end well." He said finally.

She took that as a yes.

**~!~ **

John was… quiet. It was actually very pleasant. Melina was chatty when the mood took her, and she could sometimes become annoying. Courier figured the pair balanced each other out. Melina was also fairly keen these days on getting the ex-solider to open up, she kept asking him questions about his life before Novac, something John flat out refused to discuss.

The way Courier saw it, John wished he could forget his past. Well, she would have gladly given him her amnesia in trade for regaining her own memories. All of them, not just the fragments that came whenever the mood seemed to take them.

What she was piecing together about herself wasn't exactly… good, but it wasn't bad either. More often than not, she thought about the man from her dreams, about Courier 5, about why she had been shot.

John was handy to have around for reasons besides his stellar communication skills. He was a damn good shot, and could bring down targets from a mile away if conditions were just right, before either she or Melina could even see them. That was very, very useful.

**~!~ **

John was taking the first watch. They were on the old highway 93, heading towards the 188 Trading Post where Melina had said they would be able to restock their dwindling supplies. They would reach the trading post tomorrow, for night they had stopped at what had used to be a gas station. After clearing it out, they had constructed a small fire inside the old garage, the bay door long gone at this point.

Traveling with the two women was… different. He didn't have any specific feelings one way or the other for either Courier or Melina. He thought Melina should probably lay off whatever it was she kept sipping from her worn metal flask, but it was none of his business, and maybe she had some forgetting of her own to do. He, of all people, was not about to begrudge anyone that opportunity. There were things in his own past he would have been more than happy to forget.

While she was sarcastic, and occasionally annoyingly cheerful, he also saw a cold glint in her brown eyes, an anger that was simmering, wondering when it would erupt, and knowing when it did, hell would probably break loose.

As for his other new companion, Courier, he couldn't get much of a read on her at all. She rarely spoke, but when she did, it was usually some observation of the land, or to ask Melina a question. He had found it very odd, that a woman who had once delivered packages across the Mojave had absolutely no idea where she was.

At least until she had bluntly explained that she suffered from amnesia, volunteering no more information than that, not bothering to explain how she had gotten it, or what she was looking for.

He honestly didn't care. So long as he was keeping busy, he was alright with whatever she was doing. Providing it was not helping the Legion. If Courier or Melina had shown one sign of sympathy towards the Legion, he would have shot them both without any qualms.

Grunting, he whirled around from his place outside where he had been staring out into the night, drawing his hunting knife from the sheath at his waist. Blue eyes narrowed when he seen Courier sitting upright, a gun pointed right at him. From the sweat on her forehead and the confused, wild look in her eyes, he was assuming she had just had a nightmare. Snorting, he put away the knife. "How bout I aim my gun at you for a while, see how you like it?" He suggested coldly.

Hesitating, she lowered the weapon, the confusion giving way to her usual mask of nothingness. Pushing aside the ragged blanket she had been using, Courier got to her feet. "Get some sleep, Cena, I'll take over."

Not bothered in the slightest by her own icy tone, he nodded.


	10. A Woman Like Her

**10: A Woman Like Her.**

"Doc Michaels, there's a stranger in town."

Shawn didn't look up from his morning coffee or the book in front of him. He had read this book so many times before, but the selection in town was fairly limited. "Yeah?"

Sunny Smiles nodded, wishing he'd at least have the courtesy to look at her. It wasn't like she had come over here for a check-up. "He's asking about that woman, Katy."

That got Shawn's attention. He drained the glass and pushed away from the table, standing up. "What's he look like? Not one of those Khans?"

"No…" Sunny said hesitantly, frowning. "I don't know, I've never seen anyone like him. He doesn't look like he's from any of the gangs around here, but the back of his vest… there's something on it, I don't know what it is though. Some kind of flag."

Grabbing his straw hat off the table, Shawn followed Sunny out of the clinic.

**~!~ **

Trudy could only watch as the giant sitting at her counter quietly drained his third bottle of beer, really wishing Sunny would hurry the hell up with the doc. This man had come in and the quiet conversation among her few patrons had instantly ceased.

He was simply too large, to dangerous looking, and from her first impression; Trudy both disliked him and was afraid of him. He had settled himself on a bar stool, and she prayed that it would hold out under his weight, he had to key more than she did, three times over! After ordering his first beer, he began asking questions.

The questions themselves weren't anything bad. They were actually fairly normal. How had the season's crops done? Any word from New Vegas lately? Any interesting things happening around Goodsprings?

Like an idiot, Trudy had answered all his questions, giving him the latest gossip, including the bit with that Katy girl. When his eyes –a rather disturbing shade of grey and green that seemed to flicker between the two- flashed at her mention of the girl getting shot in the skull, Trudy realized she had just gossiped herself into a situation she didn't want to be in.

So when Sunny returned with Doc Michaels in tow, she let out a relieved sigh. "Here, talk to him, he was with her the most, he can help you." She said, turning her back on the stranger, ignoring the 'what the hell' look Shawn was giving her.

**~!~ **

_I've never seen anyone like him had not been helpful as a description_, thought when Shawn seen the much larger man in the bar, sitting on a stool and drinking a beer, he realized he wouldn't have actually needed a description. This guy would have stood out anywhere he went, Goodsprings was no exception.

Massively large, and muscular, with hair that was a bit too long for the heat. Shawn's own sandy brown hair hung just to his shoulders, and he usually kept that pulled back. This man wore his own black hair down to almost the middle of his back in a heavy looking braid. As if his size and hair weren't odd enough, his arms were covered in tattoos, from wrist to shoulder, not an inch of skin left bare. Shawn had seen some gang tattoos, very rough looking, but nothing so fine as these.

"Trudy, a beer please, honey." He ordered, settling himself in an old booth.

Nodding, she turned to grab him one from the refrigerator, ignoring the stranger as she walked around the bar.

"Thank you." Shawn murmured, aware the man had turned himself in their direction and was watching them. When Trudy had returned to her post, he uncapped the bottle and took a slow sip. He wasn't entirely surprised –or pleased- when the man seated himself at the table, directly across from Shawn. "Heard you've been asking about Katy." There was no point in beating around the bush, and Shawn would admit to curiosity. He knew very little about Katy, her past was a mystery, one he wanted to unlock. One she probably was still trying to unlock.

"That what she callin' herself now?"

The cold, deep baritone sent chills down Shawn's spine and he raised his eyes to meet the strangers, finding nothing there but a wall, effectively keeping all others out, much like the stoic expression on the strangers face. "Folks around these parts call me Doc Michaels," He said, not offering his hand like he would have done under different circumstances. "And you are?"

"'Taker."

"How do you know Katy?"

'Taker leaned back in the booth, his cold stare fastened on Shawn intently. "That's not her name."

"She couldn't remember her name."

"Why not?"

"Because she took a bullet to the skull." Shawn, for some reason, said those words very slowly, studying 'Taker just as intently as the other man was studying him. "Who are you? Who are you to her?"

"Nobody you need to concern yourself with. How'd she wind up shot?"

"Same way as everyone else, someone pulled a trigger."

'Taker's nostrils flared in irritation, a flash of anger streaking through his eyes before he regained control again. "You're looking to piss me off, aren't you Doc." It wasn't a question, but a statement, both men glaring at each other. When Shawn simply shrugged, 'Taker's lips curled into a half smirk. "Since you're the one who saved her hide, I'm going to give you a warning, I'm not a man to piss off."

"Apparently not."

**~!~ **

"I want him out of here, Shawn. I don't give a good goddamn how you do it, but get him out of here right now."

Shawn pulled off his hat, rubbing a hand over his damp hair. "Stop serving him Trudy and maybe he'd leave."

She flapped her hands at him, making shushing noises, urging him to keep his voice down. "Goddamn it, Shawn, don't let him hear you!"

"Trudy, honey," Shawn took her hands in his, trying to calm her down. "he's not doing anything but sitting out there, drinking beer, and tipping you pretty well, I might add."

"But he's creepy! And don't deny it, you don't like him anymore than I do."

"That's neither here nor there, but I'm going home. It's late and I'm tired of going round with that asshole about Katy."

Trudy's scowl grew more pronounced. "What's he want with her anyway?"

"No idea." Shawn stifled a yawn, replacing his hat. "I don't think he's going to give you any trouble, Trudy. You just close on down like always, keep Sunny around in case of trouble."

"Hell, she ain't going to be any use against that man, you see the size of him?"

"Goodnight, Trudy."

**~!~ **

According to the gossip, she had slept here and she had definitely been treated here. 'Taker stared down at the cot, knowing River had woken up here. He had already trekked up to the graveyard, knowing there wouldn't be much left to examine but… He had to see the place she almost died.

Had almost died.

Some moron in a fancy suit with a fancy accent traveling in the company of a couple of Great Khans had gotten his hands on her, hauled her up there, and planted a round right in her skull.

And she had survived.

'Taker didn't know whether he was pleased or pissed off about that.

He left the clinic and strode into a living room, surveying the couch. Had she slept here? He wondered, running a hand over the coarse fabric. How long had she stayed?

Purposefully keeping his steps light, he walked out into the hallway, glancing to his right. A short hall, two shut doors, one open archway, a kitchen. He leaned into the first door, heard nothing and moved to the second. Nothing. Turning, he glanced into the open room, a kitchen.

Frowning, 'Taker rounded again and turned, slowly opening the door directly across from him. A bathroom. Which meant the final closed door was where Doc Michaels laid his head. Pulling his .44 magnum from the waistband of his jeans, he reached for the doorknob.

**~!~ **

Shawn was sitting up in his bed, the room dark except for the light coming in from an old streetlight through the open window. His hat sat on the pillow beside him, a glass of whiskey on the nightstand to his right, and his old cowboy repeater in his lap, legs stretched out before him on the bed.

His eyes were well adjusted to the dark at this point, and he seen the doorknob turning slowly. Frowning, he took a sip from the glass before setting it aside and raising the rifle. He was not surprised in the least when 'Taker slid into the room, leveling the barrel at him. "You can stop right there, son."

'Taker froze.

"Drop the gun."

"No."

"Drop it, or I'm going to shoot you."

"No." There was a hint of amusement in the dark tone. "You really going to shoot me, doctor?"

"I sure as hell ought too, considerin' you're sneaking around my house in the dead of night." Shawn growled, more than tempted to just pull the trigger. He wasn't worried about any repercussions, Goodsprings was outside NCR jurisdiction and the town held its own accountable. He had a feeling nobody would be sorry to see 'Taker go six feet under. "What the hell do you want?"

"I want to hear what you know about… Katy."

"I got the feeling you know more about her than I do."

"Perhaps." 'Taker allowed.

Sighing, Shawn got off the bed and moved over to flip on the switch to the small, cracked lamp. Dim light flooded the room, both men blinking as their eyes adjusted. Neither lowered their weapons.

'Taker leaned back against the door, obviously sizing up the smaller man. "She stay here long?"

"Few days."

"Completely forgot who she was?"

Shawn nodded.

"Including me."

"I reckon. Are you someone she needs to be rememberin'?"

"I might be." 'Taker's tone was thoughtful, polite even. "But then again… I might not be."

"How do you know her?" Shawn demanded, his finger caressing the trigger, wanting nothing more than to just squeeze. "What do you want with her?"

"Did you fuck her?"

Shawn nearly dropped the repeater in surprise. "What?"

"Did. You. Fuck. Her." When he didn't get an answer, 'Taker nodded, looking grim. "Course you did. Why wouldn't you? Even with that scarred head of hers, she's still one hot piece of tail."

"Don't you-"

"I wonder… what with her having amnesia and all," 'Taker took his pistol off of Shawn in order to use it to scratch at his hairline, his eyes gleaming vindictively. "if she forgot everything I taught her? Tell me, doc, how was she?"

Shawn swung the repeater upright, aiming straight for 'Taker's chest.


	11. When The Past Comes Knockin'

**11: When The Past Comes Knockin'.**

Courier stared down at the boy who had introduced himself as The Forecaster, arching an eyebrow when he just smiled up at her. The 188 Trading Post was situated on top of an overpass, a bridge, and thrived both on top of the bridge and underneath it. Melina hadn't been kidding about the place being a swamp of salespeople; Courier could only imagine how many people had lost a shitload of money here.

"Where are your parents?" Melina asked softly, brown eyes scanning nearby for them.

"I lost my folks a long time ago miss," The boy replied sweetly, not seeming too trouble about it. "I've been on my own since, but I'm used to it."

From behind them, John shifted from one foot to the other.

"What's that thing?" Courier asked, pointing to the odd piece of headgear the kid wore.

"This?" His hands flew up to touch it. "This is my medicine."

"Your… medicine?" She shared a puzzled look with Melina.

"Yes ma'am, it keeps me from over thinking, and it stops the headaches."

"Headaches from what?"

"I hear things, thoughts…" He shrugged.

Courier was now fairly certain this kid was insane, whereas Melina seemed to be genuinely interested, probably not helped by the whiskey she was imbibing. Courier pinched the bridge of her nose when her female companion asked for further explanation.

"He's psychic." John spoke up gruffly.

"Oh!" Melina suddenly looked wary herself and took a step backwards, obviously trying not to overly show her sudden change in feeling.

"For 100 caps, you can hear my thoughts." The boy spoke up, unhelpfully.

"A 100 caps?" Melina's jaw almost hit the pavement. "Are you kiddin' me, boy?"

He shook his head. "No ma'am. I got to eat though, and for that, I need caps. So, are you going to pay me or not?" He demanded, suddenly sounding a bit shrewd.

"Sure, here." Courier counted out a 100 caps –she couldn't argue his logic-, shaking her head when he went to remove the headgear. "No, I don't want to-"

"You paid for it, might as well." Melina shrugged.

"I don't-" She fell silent when the boy removed the nullifier, frowning slightly.

"_Your face does the thinking –two to the skull, yet one gets up_." He said, his eyes rolling in his head.

Courier ignored Melina's sharp intake of breath, her own eyes narrowing.

"_Odds are against you… but they're just numbers after the two-to-one. You're playing the hand you've been dealt, but you don't let it rest, you shuffle and stack, and a gamble… a gamble that may pay off? But how? The flag of the Old World follows you. Hate and love, which will win? Forecast: Rapidly changing conditions_."

**~!~**

Boulder was east of the 188 Trading Post, and Courier would only admit to herself that she was more than happy to be leaving the place behind. That kid –the Forecaster- hadn't exactly made her day. She had written most of it off as bullshit, but… she massaged her scarred forehead, that first comment of his about two to the skull had been a bit… much.

All the rest, well, she had no idea and wasn't planning on dwelling too much on it.

**~!~**

"You can't go in there!"

Courier, Melina, and John all stared at the NCR soldier who had been sitting at a small card table up until the moment they got too close to the gateway he had been guarding. None of them missed the radio on the table, or the pistol in his hand.

"Why not?" Courier asked calmly.

"Why not? Because there's a group of Great Khans in there, holding some NCR men hostage is why not!"

"I have to get in there." She said firmly, her fingers twitching.

"Lady, I said no."

"What if I get your men out of there?"

"How?" he eyed her skeptically. "I've already got a team in there, they're being held off from the hostages though. What makes you think you're going to waltz in there and do what professionals can't?"

"Because I'm going to do something your 'professionals' won't."

"Which is?"

"I'm going to be polite."

**~!~**

Of all the things Jessup was expecting to come through the door of the store he was holed up in, the courier from Goodsprings was not it. "What the hell?" He demanded, shooting out of his seat, eyes wide as he took her in. It was definitely the same woman, and his gaze moved to her head, taking in the scar before meeting her cold gaze. "You're that courier Shane wasted back in Goodsprings, you're supposed to be dead!"

Her own eyes –as dark and as icy as the bottom of the Colorado river- were narrowed as she stared at him, not moving when a man in a red beret stepped inside behind her. "I got better." She deadpanned.

Jessup snorted, studying the beret thoughtfully. "And here I thought us Great Khans were tough to kill." He said it in an almost admiring albeit grudging tone of voice. "So what happens now?"

**~!~**

Courier had no way of knowing if this Great Khan was the 'McMurphy' from the letter of Manny's she had read, and quite honestly, she didn't give a fuck. She recognized his voice though. She had heard him telling this Shane guy to 'get it over with'.

Before coming in, she had made the decision to leave Melina behind. Melina was good for a fight, but Courier was hoping to avoid one. Melina's mouth… might not have been conducive to that goal. She had asked John to accompany her, and while he had seemed very reluctant, he had agreed.

She figured if she needed back-up, she wanted the cool sniper over the fiery drunk.

"Where's the Platinum Chip?" She demanded after a moment, kind of enjoying seeing this Khan sweating it out.

"Don't have it." He said instantly. "Shane stole it, right before he stabbed us in the back. He's probably back at the Strip by now, laughing at me."

That was not what she wanted to hear. It meant she was destined for yet another location she had no recollection of. Frowning, Courier closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Fine, let's get this shit between you and the NCR settled then."

"What's to settle? They back off, we walk out of here, nobody gets hurt."

Somebody was going to get hurt… "Look, free the hostages now, and I'll see to it that the NCR escorts you out of their territory." She offered, ignoring the snort that came from John.

Jessup was silent for a very long time, just staring at her.

She merely stared back.

"I can't believe I'm doing this…"

**~!~**

"How do we get into the Strip?"

Melina, who had been in the process of taking a very long swallow of her beer, sputtered and wound up choking on it. When she was able to talk, she sounded hoarse. "What the fuck are we goin' there for?"

Courier just arched an eyebrow at the other woman.

Groaning, Melina scratched her bare head, ruffling her already ruffled hair. "We'd have to go through Freeside… and come up with some serious caps…"

"Why?"

"Nobody gets onto the Strip without either a passport or a chip-check."

"What's a chip-check?"

"The Securitrons check to see if you have a minimum of like… five thousand caps, if you don't, you don't get in." Melina shrugged, finishing her beer and tossed the bottle into the fire they were seated around. "Shane's in Vegas, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

John had heard the story about Courier/Katy from Melina, so he could actually follow their conversation, not that he had anything to add to it. He was merely along for the ride. Today had been… hell, on his memory. He had almost told her to go to Hell when she asked him to walk into a Great Khan lair, not needing to face his demons anytime soon.

If the way his mind was throwing up images of the past, he knew he SHOULD have told her to go to Hell opposed to going in with her and sending himself instead. Tonight would definitely be a sleepless night.

"What about my caravans?" Melina demanded, sounding both angry and annoyed. "You promised me we'd look into it, Courier."

"And aren't we coming up on one of your routes?"

"Yes."

"Then we'll stop and look into it."

**~!~**

He watched as she wound her way up the rocky hillside, leaning against one of the jagged boulders that he had been using for a lean to. He hadn't started a fire, knowing damn well that sniper man of hers would have spotted him, but he hadn't exactly kept his enormous frame out of sight either. He wanted her to catch him.

She halted a few feet away from him, a large hunting knife in one hand, the other holding a handgun. It was impossible to make out the expression on her face, what light would have been provided by the moon was being blocked by overcast clouds. "Who are you?" She demanded in a low voice, a mixture of confusion, wariness, and longing making up her tone.

"You really don't remember…" He didn't lower his own weapon, knowing if she was bluffing him, she'd shoot him. Hell, even if she wasn't bluffing, she might shoot him anyway. "River…"

She jerked as if he had just tossed a bucket of scalding water on her. "That's… not my name."

"It sure as hell ain't Katy either!" He hissed, taking several steps down towards her.

She brought up the gun, digging it into his neck when he halted before her. "Who are you?" She demanded again.

"'Taker." He grunted, dropping his .44 in order to slap the knife from her other hand and then grab her wrist, twisting until she had dropped the gun. "Goddamn it River, you WILL remember me." He vowed, his hand moving to the back of her head and burying itself in her hair, wrenching back. "Even if it kills you."


	12. Old World, New World, Part 1

**A/N:** Alright, I keep waiting for the makers of Fallout to elaborate more on Courier and Ulysses' relationship, and as they haven't... So... I've started working on my own back story for them.

**12: Old World, New World , Part 1**

This was familiar. The man, 'Taker, was familiar. When the clouds had rolled by, she was able to glimpse his face; and she recognized him. He was the one thing that she seemed to be able to remember, the one person, not to mention she had been dreaming about him. "I know you!" She whispered, reaching up to run trembling fingertips down his face.

His eyes –eyes she knew to be a gray-green color- closed, a sigh escaping his lips. "River…"

"How do I know you?"

Those thin, sensual lips curved upwards into a half smirk, a reluctant one at that. "You really did lose all your memories…" He sounded both sad and perhaps a bit jealous. "I wish I could… Maybe things would be different, darlin'."

"I don't… understand." She did not like this, she knew him, but she didn't know how she knew him. Or what they were to each other. Lovers? That much was obvious, even to her. But she also sensed something so much deeper between them, something dark, passionate… something dangerous and deadly.

Instead of explaining everything to her, 'Taker leaned down, his calloused hands gently cupping her face as her head tilted back to meet his lips.

**~!~**

"Where's Courier?" Melina asked groggily, sitting up slowly from her bedroll besides the fire. She didn't know what had woken her up, all she knew was she had jolted out of a dead sleep. Across from her, John was sitting on a rock, his sniper resting across his knees. "Isn't she supposed to be on watch?"

"She went that way." John gestured vaguely towards the hills that flanked them. "And she hasn't come back yet."

That woke Melina up completely. Frowning, and dead sober, she pushed herself to her feet. "Well why the hell didn't you go after her?" She demanded, bending down to pick up her own shotgun. "She don't know her way around the Mojave, she's probably lost."

"No." John said curtly, his tone stopping her dead in her tracks. "She's up there with someone."

Melina arched an eyebrow.

**~!~**

'Taker had built a fire to ward off the chill of the night air, but he needn't have. Courier could not remember a time she had ever been this warm, she was nearly on fire herself. "I want you." She whispered huskily from his lap. She was sitting with her back against his chest, her hair pushed to one side as he nuzzled her throat. The feel of his mustache and goatee scratching gently against her skin only added to overall sensations instead of detracting.

His arms were wrapped around her waist, and she could not stop tracing her fingers along the tattoos, wondering how he had gotten them, realizing she had wondered this before. They had done this before. She felt his laughter before she heard it, a deep rumble that started in his chest and then came out a husky chuckle. "Not tonight, River." He murmured in her ear, his tongue darting out to trace her lobe.

She was going to explode, and take him and the rest of the Mojave with her. Squirming on his lap, she heard his sharp intake of breath, his hips simultaneously arching up. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

"Not. Tonight." He repeated gruffly, his embrace turning to steel, stilling her. "I will make love to you, River, but not tonight."

"When?"

"When you know me, when you remember."

**~!~**

"Where the HELL have you been? Who were you with?"

The last thing Courier wanted to deal with was Melina. Especially a sober Melina. It was rare to see Melina sober, but the woman was even more volatile stone cold sober opposed to when she had a few shots in her. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Courier, you just can't walk around at night without telling us where you're going!" Melina wanted a drink, that was for damn sure, but her flask was empty and she knew John didn't drink (she had asked him already), and Courier didn't carry liquor. "What would have happened if you got lost? Or killed?"

"Then you both could have gone on your merry ways."

Melina drew back her fist.

John merely watched as Melina sent Courier flying to the ground with one very hard, well delivered punch. He was waiting now for Courier to get up and either get her ass handed to her, or beat the hell out of the fiery Melina.

Instead, Courier merely stood up and brushed the dirt off her clothes, her blue eyes narrowed at Melina as she then felt her busted open lip. "Nice punch." She said finally, spitting blood into the now dead fire.

"Yeah, it was a pretty good swing."

**~!~**

"We're going into Freeside?"

"What's Freeside?"

John snorted, turning away from the women in order to light a cigarette, using the lighter Courier had been given by one of the Khans in Boulder City, Shane's lighter she had said. "Freeside is the New Vegas slum."

"Is it the only way to the Strip?"

"Unfortunately."

"Then yes, we're going into Freeside."

"Not tonight we're not." Melina said crossly, still sober, and very tired. They had walked all day, and the temperature had gone over the 100 degree mark. Her clothes were stuck to her, and she smelled like she was three people with horrible body odor opposed to just one. "That'd be stupid. There's an old apartment next to the medical clinic a few blocks down, we can bed down there tonight."

Taking a long drag, John tilted his head back and blew out a thin stream of smoke. "How are we going to get past the chip-check?" He asked, not directing the question towards either of them specifically.

Melina shrugged, shooting Courier a questioning look of her own.

"Leave it to me."

**~!~**

What the hell was she doing? 'Taker wondered as he watched the trio troop into the apartment over the medical clinic. Or at least it had been an apartment. Now it was a roofless room with three standing walls and a lot of debris. It would however, be a suitable place for passing a night or two, which was apparently what the three were planning on doing.

He had found out that River was traveling with Melina Perez, a former caravan owner and notorious drunk. Her other, newer, companion, was John Cena, an ex-NCR Sniper who had been at the battle of Bitter Springs and retired to Novac with his missing, presumably dead wife Carla. He was more than curious to know just why she was traveling with these two.

From the good doctor Michaels, he had learned that River was hunting for the man who had planted one in her skull. He had seen her first at the Mojave Outpost. He had been coming out of the Mesquite Mountains, down a side trail most people didn't even realize was there when he had spotted her.

He had immediately remembered the last time he had seen River, remembered their violent fight, their harsh words to each other.

"_We can't keep doing this, 'Taker." River said, her back to him as she surveyed the Colorado River below, standing on one of the numerous cliffs. Across the river lay the Mojave Desert, which she had every intention of making her new home, providing she got past Caesar's Legion. They were encamped everywhere on just the other side of the river. "We can't keep fighting and-"_

"_Fucking?" He finished from directly behind her. Given their respective roles, he found it incredibly stupid of her to be standing right there at the edge of a cliff with her back to him. He knew it was her showing that she did not fear him, though upon further inspection, he realized her entire body was tensed. She was prepared for a sneak attack._

_All things considered, that both offended and amused him._


	13. Old World, New World, Part 2

**13: Old World, New World, Part 2.**

"_Don't you think," 'Taker drawled softly, giving River the courtesy of hearing his deliberate footsteps right behind her. "that it's a bit late for that, darlin'?"_

"_It's never too late." River turned around when he snaked his arms about his waist. "I mean it, 'Taker." She whispered, staring up at him intently. "I can't do this anymore."_

_His eyes narrowed and his grip on her tightened. "Why? Why now, Riv?"_

"_You know why." She said evenly, not afraid of him in the least. She had seen firsthand what he could do, she knew he had more than earned his nickname of the Undertaker on the battlefield. But still, she did not fear him._

_The reason she didn't fear him wasn't because of their illicit relationship but because she was no push-over, she was more than capable of taking care of herself._

'_Taker was reminded of that fact when he felt a sharp prick against his inner thigh, a bit too close to home for him. He also knew that was his warning to loosen his ever tightening grip on her. Letting go, he stepped back, and glanced down. He wasn't surprised in the least when he seen the hunting dagger in her hand. _

"_We're fighting for different sides, 'Taker. We've already faced off against each other, and one of these days, we're going to wind up fighting until one of us dies." River said flatly, not sheathing the dagger, though she did move so she wasn't such a tempting target to be pushed over the cliff. "Providing we don't get caught first."_

_He knew where this conversation would lead, where it always did, and like many times before, both of them would refuse to compromise. Gritting his teeth, he took a step toward her, ignoring the flash of silver when she threateningly raised the knife. "We're not going to get caught."_

"_So it doesn't bother you… that you're fucking the enemy?"_

"_Does it bother you?"_

"_Yes." She whispered._

_That made him stop._

**~!~**

Freeside was a slum, which was the only way Courier could describe it. They had just entered through the gates and had barely taken two steps forward when they walked right into a group of men, all wearing leather armor, all packing heat.

"You going through Freeside ladies?" One of them spoke up, completely ignoring John. "Well you're going to need some help, Freeside ain't no place for outsiders."

"I think we're good." Melina said dryly, feeling much better now that she was good and properly buzzed, uncapping her flask and took a swallow, her eyes never leaving the wanna-be thug for hire.

He then ignored her too, turning to face Courier. "How bout you?" He demanded, studying her face intently, eyes straying to the scar. "Looks like you need a bodyguard."

"Hm. Not interested."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Snorting, John barreled his way through the men, ignoring their curses and muttered threats, making the way for Melina and Courier. "Come on."

"So, what's your brilliant plan for getting past the chip-check?" Melina demanded once they were able to walk side by side, though she did keep her eyes peeled. Freeside had an overabundance of thugs who waited to prey on the unwary. Freeside also had its regulators, but… More often than not, a person had to either rely on their own wits, pay up, or die.

Usually the last two, at the same time.

"Brilliant, no. Practical, yes."

"We're not stealing." John said from upfront, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Melina just shrugged when she received a look from Courier.

"I wasn't intending on stealing anything. But there has to be work around here." Courier said flatly. "Real work, not jacking people for whatever."

"Oh sure, you seen them mercenaries back there?" Melina jabbed a thumb over her shoulder, gesturing back towards the gate they had come in. "That's about the only kind of work in Freeside."

It was Courier's turn to snort. "In just about every place I've visited, there are ALWAYS people looking for someone to do something for them. And if they're paying right…" She shrugged. "Why not?"

"And just where did you pick up this worldly experience?"

"In Primm I cleared out the Powder Gangers, first to talk to someone, and then because he asked me to finish the job. At the Outpost, Ranger Jackson wanted me to do some shit, but I turned him down."

"Novac?"

She glanced at John.

"Oh yeah."

All three adults halted in order to watch two small children, a boy and a girl, rush by them, in pursuit of a very large, very ugly rat.

"Ew." Melina wrinkled her nose. "I'm not even going to ask."

"They'll probably eat it." Courier said thoughtfully, pulling out her gun.

"No, don't shoot-" Melina sighed when the other woman shot the rat, the two kids dropping down and immediately began tearing it apart with small knives they procured from their raggedy clothes. "They're going to eat it…"

"They're hungry."

John just looked on, glancing back at Courier thoughtfully

**~!~**

She would wind up in Freeside, of all places, 'Taker thought as he watched Courier and her companions make their way through the crowded, filthy streets. Freeside was the ghetto of New Vegas, originally home to the tribals who hadn't been invited inside Mr. House's walls. The recent surge of outsiders and refugees from the Mojave had made the streets nearly impossible to walk without stumbling onto one of them. Either begging for one thing or another, or trying to shank you. Because of slavers, raiders, and gangs, people were fleeing to New Vegas for protection, or to start over.

They were all severely disappointed.

Freesiders had no tolerance for the incoming people, and fights were constantly breaking out between the actual natives and the immigrants. It was a street war.

And if he knew River, she was probably going to somehow wind up in the middle of it.

"Goddamn woman…"

**~!~**

"The King's School of Impersonation… who's the King?" Courier demanded, staring at the sign and then the posters that lined the outside of the building.

John shook his head. "Don't ask them that, you'll get lectured." He cautioned, rolling his eyes when she repeated her question. "No idea. Some guy from back before the pre-war era, like way back."

"These loons found all this shit and started a gang, the Kings. They all dress, talk, and act like him. It's kinda cute." Melina added thoughtfully. "And The King is the leader of… the Kings…"

"Very original." Courier deadpanned, stroking her chin thoughtfully, ignoring the sounds of a fight from across the street. "They have any sway around here?"

"They rule Freeside, sort of. The King does, he tries to keep shit peaceful but… it don't look like he's doing too well lately."

"Well then," Courier began walking towards the door. "Let's go introduce ourselves."

**~!~**

"_Fine," 'Taker breathed out when the realization that River was absolutely serious washed over him. "Fine." He knew it had been stressful for her, hell it had for him too, sneaking around the way they had for the past few years. Both of them fighting for different causes, different reasons, and their only middle ground was their mutual attraction to each other. Other than that, they both had different expectations of life, how they wished the future to be shaped, their ideals were completely at odds… _

_She was right… eventually, they would find themselves in a fight they couldn't fake, or ignore._

_River was already walking away from him._

_Somewhat aware that he had just snapped, 'Taker was suddenly behind her, his large hands flying out to shove her shoulders, sending her sprawling to the ground. _

_Groaning, River spat out the dust, dirt, and stones she had damn near swallowed, quickly rolling away from him and pushing herself to her feet. She felt her face, not surprised to feel blood trailing from several places. Eyes narrowing, she purposefully reached for the sling on her back._

_He knew exactly what she was going for, her gun, and had seen her in action with it. Her aim was impeccable, and she was lightning fast. Not wasting time with guns or knives, he plowed into her again, knocking her down once more._

_This time she landed on her back, feeling her skull cracking against a rock protruding from the ground and blinked back tears of pain. This was a long time coming between them, and she knew when she had ended it, chances were they would have their final confrontation right then and there._

_Reaching out with a fumbling hand, her fingers enclosed around a large stone and she brought it up against the side of his head the moment he straddled her waist, hearing 'Taker's curse of pain and felt him moving away from her._


	14. The Enclave's Wild Card

**A/N & Disclaimer:** For anyone familiar with the game, you've probably noticed I'm beginning to alter canon at this point, and will continue to do so from here on out. Mostly in regards to the characters, don't worry, the ending will still be... one of the actual endings from the game, sort of. Sorry for the wait on the update but this Error 2 crap is killing me! As for you lovely Reviewers, you're killing me! Taker and Courier together would be wickedly awesome, however... *whimpers* I don't know if my Shawn Muse is going to allow that, that and 'Taker is definitely a villain of sorts in this one, we'll see. Glad you guys are enjoying it! Courier's revenge on Shane WILL be coming up in the next chapter, or at least, we'll see Shane in the next chapter. And as always, I own nothing, I'm just playing with the Fallout universe and the WWE superstars, however I am not opposed to taking over ownership either...

**14: The Enclave's Wild Card**

"That was… interesting." Melina commented as they finally strolled out of the King's building, glancing over her shoulder in order to flip off the guy named Pacer who had tried charging them to speak with the actual King. She had squashed that shit quick.

"More like completely useless." Courier snorted, spotting the quirk of John's mouth from the corner of her eye that told her he agreed. According to the King, they ruled Freeside, and were dealing with a sudden upsurge of violence aimed at the NCR as well as the refugees that were flooding the streets and making things even harder on the actual residents, but they weren't really doing anything about it. Nor was he interested in hiring outside help, unless it concerned his robotic dog Rex. Courier was not traveling all over the goddamned place to fix a dog.

"So what now?"

"I don't know Melina, give me-"

"Katy?"

Courier whirled around, her eyes wide at that familiar drawl, and could only gape.

Shawn Michaels stood there, looking at her uncertainly, a slight smile playing his lips. "I heard a rumor you were here." He said softly, taking a tentative step forward.

Melina and John were both surprised when Courier all but threw herself at the man.

"Well I'll be damned, Doc Michaels?" Melina crowed after a moment, recovering the use of her tongue. "What in the blue hell are you doing here?"

Shawn didn't answer her right away, too busy holding onto Katy. He had worried for her after 'Taker had left, knowing instinctively that the giant would seek her out, but for what Shawn couldn't be sure. He had his face buried in her neck, trying to understand why he even cared past the patient/doctor relationship, giving it up because he knew there was no way he would understand or be able to explain it.

Finally, Courier released him and stepped back, feeling almost shy as she stared up into Shawn's face. With him she felt safe and there was no confusion as to who he was or what he wanted, which contributed to the overall safety feeling. With 'Taker… she had no idea, and that was unsettling, especially when he wasn't around to cloud her thinking. "What are you doing here?" She asked after a moment of simply staring at him.

"Business." He replied with a half-grin, nodding in acknowledgement to Melina, his hazel eyes skimming over John. "And hopin' to run into you along the way."

She smiled slightly.

"Well, this is just great, but we're standing in Freeside and as fun as that is, I need me a drink. Why don't we hit the Atomic Wrangler have a drink."

"Or two, or three." John added sarcastically, ignoring the glare Melina aimed his way.

"I could go for a drink. Katy?" Shawn peered down at her.

"She prefers Courier." Melina piped up, snorting when Courier shot her a look, figuring since she was racking up points for being irritating she might as well go whole hog.

Shawn nodded, casually looping his arm around Courier's waist as he moved so he was facing Melina and John. "I know she does, I also told her once before I wasn't goin' to call her that."

Courier just shrugged when John and Melina gave her skeptical looks, ignoring the way too knowing gleam that glimmered in Melina's eyes.

"Or I could call you River if you prefer." He added in softer tones.

She stiffened.

**~!~**

_While 'Taker was busy cursing and wiping blood from the side of his head, River was scrambling to her feet, ignoring the pain in the back of her own skull. She had known this was coming, they both had. They were too alike, and too different for it to end in any other way. Growling, she drew her gun and aimed it at him, waiting until he was finally looking at him before smiling sweetly. "Really, 'Taker? Sneak attacking me?" She drawled coldly, cocking the trigger back. "Because you couldn't handle rejection?"_

_His dangerous eyes flashed as they moved from the gun to her face. "You don't have the fuckin' BALLS, River." He hissed, knowing he had finally pushed her to her breaking point. It all honesty, he was surprised it had taken them this long to reach the point they were at._

_Given both their histories, the banners they respectively worked under… yeah, this had been long overdue._

"_You're right, I don't have the balls." She shot him, purposefully getting him in the shoulder, her own eyes narrowing as he clamped a hand to the wound, blood seeping from between his fingers. "I have the spine, and enough motivation, who the fuck needs balls?" She took aim again. "We could have both walked away from each other and when it came to the moment we had to fight, we could have done it on the battlefield, like the soldiers we are. But no… you had to go all fucking psychotic on me."_

"_You knew what I was when you took up with me." He said simply, not about to offer any other explanation. She had known he was a dangerous, volatile man when they had begun their unconventional affair, she had said it had been part of his attraction. Of course there was definitely a rush, a thrill, knowing that the person you were sleeping with happened to be someone who was out to kill you on their business hours. "Did you expect anything less?"_

"_Yes." The calm and cold demeanor was cracking, hurt and anguish beginning to show. "I loved you."_

"_Then that makes you a goddamn fool, River." He spat, knowing he was provoking her, knowing she would eventually pull that trigger. Because if she didn't, then he would kill her._

_That was how their story ended. There was no alternate ending, no happily ever after… just this._

**~!~**

Courier could only listen as Shawn told her about 'Taker's visit, closing her eyes as the gaps in her memory were pieced together. Over the past few weeks, she had bit by bit been remembering her past, who she was, and she was pretty certain a lot of it was triggered by 'Taker's sudden emergence in her life.

What was before him, she was still unsure, but she had a general idea.

What she was now remembering of him, of them, contrasted greatly against the man she had sat with under the stars with not too long ago, the man she had begged to make love to her. She could feel a familiar yet unfamiliar feeling of longing and hatred welling up inside of her.

Shawn had stopped talking and was now just watching the play of emotions dance across her face, knowing she had to be deeply lost in thought if they were seeing this breech in her emotional wall. "Katy, Courier, River, whichever one you want, honey." He said, snapping her out of her thoughts and reached across the dingy table the four were seated around in order to take her hands in his. "What are you rememberin'?"

"I don't know… my life before I was shot… 'Taker." She admitted, feeling him giving her a sympathetic squeeze and both wanted to pull away and return it. "And what do you mean whichever I want?"

"If you want to be called by your actual name, then I'll call you River. If you prefer Courier…" He shrugged one shoulder. "Then I'll use that."

She took a deep breath, slowly pulling her hands out of his but gave him a reassuring smile so he would know it wasn't anything personal. "For now, I'm just Courier."

"Good call." Melina said with an approving nod, a bit astonished that this guy had actually gone hunting for Shawn. There was something tugging at the back of her head, some piece of information she knew but for the life of her, she could not recall. "We don't know who else remembers you."

Courier arched an eyebrow.

"'Taker is short for Undertaker." John spoke up abruptly, drawing all eyes to him, though his were fastened on Courier.

She nodded.

"As in the Undertaker, one of the Enclave's elite, their wild card. THAT Undertaker?"

Courier inhaled sharply, looking like she had been slapped, all color draining from her face. "Yes… the Enclave… 'Taker…" She could only nod dumbly. "That's him."


	15. A Desert Ranger's History

**A/N: **Thanks guys for the reviews! And as promised, Shane is in this chapter, being his usual smarmy self I might add, he does prick so well. Also from here on out unless otherwise noted, the large chunks of italics are Katy/Courier/River's (Whichever one you like to think of her as) backstory, her memory is returning.

**15: A Desert Ranger's History**

Shawn had access to the Strip. Because he was originally from Vault 21, he had a passport. Apparently he was on his way to visit friends and get some medical supplies for his clinic back in Goodsprings. He had informed them that getting one of them through the gates wouldn't be a problem, getting all three… slight problem.

So it was decided that that evening Shawn and Courier would go into the Strip. Shawn would tend to his business in the Vault while Courier sought out Shane.

While Melina was busy up at the bar and Shawn was speaking with someone he apparently knew, Courier moved so she was sitting next to John, staring at him intently.

John just stared back, arching an eyebrow when she didn't immediately say anything. "Just spit it out, Courier." He sighed after a moment.

"Tell me everything you know."

He sighed again, reaching for his beer and drained it. Usually, he was not a big drinker, though there were plenty of times when he wished he was, but today… today was a good day for a beer, or two. He began explaining the history of the Enclave, what he knew at any rate, and their downfall. Then he launched into the east's problems with the Enclave, some shit in the D.C. area that ended in an all-out war from what he had heard, something concerning the Enclave and the Brotherhood of Steel. "After that, the Enclave pretty much disappeared. There was an Enclave base in Navarro in California, and…"

"And-"

"And they tried to reestablish themselves, but that didn't go too well." John said bluntly, staring at her intently. "The NCR really didn't have much influence here until a few years ago, mostly because of Caesar's Legion, so the territory was open game. But the Enclave retreated towards Nevada. Probably in an attempt to take over Reno, which is one of the largest functioning settlements left in the west."

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickling.

"And they wound up getting their asses handed to them by the-"

"Desert Rangers." She whispered.

He nodded.

**~!~**

**The Badlands, Nevada  
Year: 2269**

"_What the hell…"_

_18 year old River Brooks arched an eyebrow as she glanced at her brother, wondering just what had gotten Phil –or Punk, a nickname that he had earned during childhood and never rid himself of- to snap out of the silence they had been locked in ever since taking their post. "What?"_

"_We got company coming, of the Enclave variety." He said, stowing his binoculars and rolling off his stomach, gesturing for her to follow him. _

"_The Enclave? Here?" She hurriedly followed him, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting to see them coming over the ridge. _

"_Looks like it. We best report to Austin, he's not going to like this…"_

_She didn't say a word, knowing damn well one of them might wind up getting smacked just because._

_**~!~**_

_Steve Austin was the leader of the Desert Rangers, and he had made it his personal mission to ensure trouble stayed the hell out of his territory. Every ranger under his command had earned their place, including the Brooks siblings, who were currently his youngest rangers at 18 and 19. _

_Any one of his rangers could survive in the desert without a problem. They were all trained in hand to hand combat, ranged combat, survival techniques, espionage, and a little bit of everything else. _

_For a while now, they hadn't had much trouble with anyone, minus the mutated bugs, but that wasn't really anything out of the ordinary. He should have known it wasn't going to last, especially when the Brooks came flying into his office._

"_Enclave."_

_That was all that needed to be said._

_**~!~**_

_It was a small-scale war, but a war all the same. The rangers toyed with the idea of sending someone out to meet the approaching force but decided against that, they all knew how the Enclave treated outsiders, people who weren't 'pure' human._

_So instead, they let the Enclave get as far as the ridges before attacking._

_The first wave had been a success, and the Enclave had retreated._

_But the win was only temporary._

**~!~**

"You're remembering." Shawn said, studying Courier thoughtfully.

She nodded, busy washing the dirt and grime from herself. They had rented a room for John and Melina to use while she and Shawn were in the Strip, though at the moment John and Melina were downstairs while Shawn and Courier got ready to go.

He was glad that she was remembering, having worried that she would never recover her memory. At the same time, he also worried about what the impact of those memories would do the woman she was now. There was no way to know if she would get all her memories back, or if they would continue to come piece by piece or suddenly slam into her all at once. The timing was unpredictable as well, she seemed to be remembering a lot in a relatively short amount of time but he was guessing there was outside stimuli influencing that.

"I'm from Nevada." She said after a moment, setting the rag down besides the cracked porcelain basin now filled with brown water, mildly surprised at just how filthy she had been. "And I have a brother, or had."

"Had?"

"He's dead."

"You sure?"

She nodded.

Frowning, he stepped up behind her and slowly wrapped his arms about her, drawing her against him so her back was against his chest. "Courier, honey, with your memories comin' back, do you still want to do this? Pursue this Shane guy?"

She had wondered when he was going to ask about that, knowing damn well he did not approve of her quest for vengeance and answers. "That hasn't changed, my memories returning have nothing to do with Shane." She informed him as gently as she could with a hint of steel in her tone.

"Alright then, let's do this."

"You're not going with me Shawn, you'll go handle your business at the Vault."

Now he whirled her around, wondering if she was suicidal. "Woman, I did not save your life only to watch you throw it away!" He informed her, gently but firmly holding her by her upper arms so she couldn't pull away like she was trying too. "You're not facing him alone."

**~!~**

Courier found out that Shane was The Chairman of the Tops Casino, Chairmen being the name of their faction, an old tribe that had been recruited by the elusive Mr. House. She could have sworn she had seen Victor –the fucking robot- on their way into the Strip, sitting at the entrance to the Lucky 38, a casino Shawn told her nobody had been in since before the Great War.

The casino was owned by Mr. House.

Who she had absolutely zero interest in learning about.

They halted at the entrance to the Tops, Courier staring intently at Shawn who did not look very happy at the moment. "I want you to wait here." She said, knowing it was pretty useless.

"It's not going to happen."

"Shawn, I'm going in there to MURDER a man, and I'll kill anyone who gets in my way, so I could be murdering a lot of people." She informed him, watching him flinch at how casually she had said that. "Do you really want to watch me do that?"

"Honey, I'm still not lettin' you go in there alone. Besides, all casinos have a no-guns policy, how are you going to get past the pat-down?"

"Oh believe me, I will." She smiled ferally.

He believed her.

**~!~**

Dave Bautista was working the front desk when he heard the soft alarm that signaled the doors, and glanced up. His brown eyes widened appreciatively when he seen the woman in black leather pants and black leather vest walk in, automatically disregarding her male companion. He liked women, a lot, and she was a beauty, even with the scar on her forehead. It gave her a dangerous edge, he liked that too.

"Hey baby doll," He greeted, flashing her a charming smile, watching as her face went from cautious too pleased, her dark blue eyes turning to liquid. He got that a lot, he was rather well built and good looking, he would generally be the first to admit it. But this was no broad from the Strip, even he knew that. She had the ruggedness of someone who ran the Mojave, a sort of predatory aura about her. "Welcome to the Tops Hotel and Casino."

"Thank you." She said.

David found himself doing a little melting himself. She had a low, husky voice that sent shivers down her spine. "I'm…" He shook his head, reminding himself of his job, and gave the man with her a stern look before returning his attention to her. "I'm going to have to ask you folks to hand over any weapons you might be carrying. When you leave, you can have them back."

She automatically reached for a pistol at her waist, walking over to the counter to hold it out to him. "I'm rather fond of that… gun." She said, lingering over the last word, her eyes meeting his. "So take good care of it for me?"

"Sure thing, baby doll." Dave replied, taking the gun, his fingers brushing hers. "Smooth and easy, just the way I like it."

Shawn was not surprised when he got patted down, more amused than anything. He remembered Courier –he was never going to get used to that- as being a cold, stern woman, except for their one night together. The woman he had recognized in Freeside wasn't as cold or stern, but there was the same hardness to her, and he liked her better than the first incarnation he had known. This woman… well, he was pretty glad she hadn't turned her apparent powers of seduction onto him, unsure of just what he WOULDN'T do for her.

Courier waited patiently while Shawn's shotgun was taken from him, as well as a few knives, and what even looked like a stick of dynamite, wondering just what the hell he was doing with all that to begin with. When the large man turned back to her, she flashed him another smile.

"Enjoy your visit." He purred, winking at her.

"I intend too."

**~!~**

Shane smirked as he surveyed the gambling room, watching as people wasted their money in the slot machines, knowing their chances of actually winning any big money was very slim. He liked his money right where it was, in his pocket, thank you very much. He was surrounded by Chairmen, all ready to go and escort someone out, usually that someone was either a very pissed off and broke former client who had just lost all his or her cash in one fell swoop, or some jackass who DID manage to get lucky and break the bank.

His eyes narrowed in on a tall, lean man with golden brown hair that fell to just beneath his shoulders ambled lazily towards the elevators, making a mental note to check in with his right hand man –Dave- to find out who he was. They rented out the rooms, but usually people couldn't afford them.

"Well hot damn…" One of the boys murmured, letting out a slow whistle of appreciation.

Shane's attention was instantly drawn to that, focusing on the woman who was slowly approaching them. It took him a minute to realize just who in the Hell she was, his eyes widening in disbelief. "What in the good goddamn…?"

She smiled at him, now within arm's reach.

"You…" He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Dave made sure nobody who came through those doors was packing, and he was surrounded by his boys, she wasn't going to do anything. With that thought in mind, he managed a smile. "You are looking a lot better than the last time I see you, kitten." He said smoothly when he had recovered and was sure his voice wouldn't come out a squeak, wishing his heart would get with the program and stop beating so goddamn fast.

She tilted her head to the side, her raven colored hair falling over her shoulder as she contemplated him. "When you shot me, you ran off so fast I didn't catch your name." She said finally.

Now THAT knocked Shane for several loops, and he could only stare at her. She was obviously out of her goddamned mind. "Are you… are you making a pass at me?" He demanded. "Because I am out of your league." He had a rule against sleeping with psychotic broads.

"Is it wrong to want a guy who'd shoot you in the head?"

She was definitely psychotic. "Did those bullets scramble your brains?"

Her answering smile actually made him grin in spite of himself.

"Or have you always been a naughty broad?"

"Girls like naughty boys, and you have been downright awful." She informed him teasingly, glancing at the men who had taken position right behind her before glancing back at Shane, arching an eyebrow.

"Hey now pussycat," He held up his hands in a mock gesture of fear, his arrogant grin mocking her. "You're not exactly square in the head, now are you? I don't even know what brand of crazy you are."

"Well," She ignored the other men, taking a deliberate step towards him and reached out to place her hand on his chest, fingers splayed. "Why don't we go somewhere private and… discuss it."

Now it was him arching an eyebrow.

"Despite everything, I dig you, what can I say?"

"I hear 'dig' from you babe, and all I can think of is 'shovel'." Shane said flatly, reminding them both of their first encounter. He had apparently had her buried alive, now that was a disturbing thought. Though not as disturbing as the fact that she was now coming onto him. "So how can this be? This isn't forgiveness, this is something… wrong."

"I'm a courier, remember?"

He nodded.

"Did you really think I got into that line of work for the money?" She was running that hand down his chest, to the waistband of his slacks. "I do it because I like… handling…"

Shane's eyes were bulging at this point.

"…packages."

**~!~ **

**A/N: **Yes, another one, and yes I did leave it off right there. The next scene with Shane can go one of three different ways, and I'm going to ask you guys what you think. Option 1, Courier sleeps with and then kills Shane. Option 2, Courier makes Shane think she's going to sleep with him and then kills him. Option 3, Courier and Shane agree to 'talk it out' only for Shane to wind up running off. Opinions?


	16. One Crazy Broad

**A.N:** I asked and you guys answered, since it seems like a mix of 2 and 3, so I suppose Shane will live to be murdered another day. ;)

**16: One Crazy Broad**

Shawn arched an eyebrow when Courier strolled up to him, pushing away from the wall he had been leaning against, hidden from general sight by a potted, fake plant that looked like it had seen better days. "Shane just took the elevator." He said with a slight frown, knowing that whatever Courier had said to the swine had apparently made the man's day because he had been grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"I'm meeting him in his room on the thirteenth floor." She said flatly, watching as anger flared in Shawn's hazel eyes.

"What for?"

"He thinks for sex."

Now the anger was not only visible in Shawn's eyes but on his face as well. "I hope you're jokin', Katy." He growled, reverting back to the name he had given her.

"I'm not joking, Shawn, but I'm not having sex with him either. I just didn't feel like killing him in front of so many people, surrounded by his men. We'd never make it out of here alive. Give me a bit more credit than that."

He relaxed somewhat. "So what's the plan?"

"The plan is that I go up to his room, and you give me ten minutes. Then you join me."

"Join you?"

She had to smile at the repulsed look on his face. "Just in case I need help."

He nodded.

**~!~**

Shane was sitting at his private bar when he heard the key in the door, wondering if he had lost his mind. He had tried to kill this woman, and now he was about to have sex with her? Granted, she was one hot broad, but still… psychotic.

Well, what was one tumble? He couldn't help it if the crazy woman found him attractive, he was the catch of New Vegas after all.

Not turning when he heard her deliberate footsteps on the thinly carpeted floor, he tossed back his liquor and then set the cracked glass down on the stained bar counter. After a moment, he finally graced her by looking at her, arching an eyebrow. "I hope you're built sturdy, you crazy broad." He said with a smirk, sliding off the stool and approached her. "Because I'm going to take you for one hell of a ride."

Shane's smirk was erased when there was a gun aimed directly at his forehead, his face paling.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you." She said coldly, all traces of the seductress gone.

He had KNOWN better, Shane was mentally kicking his own ass for this. "I'll give you several." He said after a moment, forcing himself to remain cool. "I've got bodyguards outside this room, all packing heat. I'm even carrying, so that makes five. You think you can walk out of here alive if you pull that trigger?"

She smiled humorlessly. "I'm getting pretty good at escaping death. How about you?" She cocked the trigger back. "You think YOU can survive a shot to the head?"

"Probably not. But sweetheart, you didn't come here for vengeance," He ignored her raised eyebrow, forcing himself to stare into those cold murky blue eyes, eyes that earlier had shined with what he assumed to be lust for him. More like lust for the kill. "You came here to get clued in."

"Don't fool yourself Shane, I'm here to kill you."

"You know my name, but I don't know yours. You mind telling me your name before you plant one in me?"

"Courier."

He snorted at that. "Mind telling me how it is you're still alive, Courier?"

"A Securitron dug me up and a doc in Goodsprings did the rest."

If possible, Shane paled even more. "House was onto me from the start?" He whispered, more to himself then to her. "And here I thought I was being clever…"

"Somehow… you and clever don't seem to mix." She replied dryly, slowly pulling the gun away, apparently deciding to listen to whatever he had to say.

"How'd you track me?"

"I'm persistent."

"Yeah… that's one word for it." He wasn't moving, a bit afraid that any sudden movements on his part would have that gun right back up between his eyes. "So what now? You going to kill me?"

"I should." She was staring at him thoughtfully.

"Yeah, you got the drop on me, Courier. If there was ever a time for killing, this would be it." He agreed with a knowing nod, the color slowly coming back to his face. "But sweetheart, you're disappointing me."

The look on her face was both amused and annoyed and he could clearly see the 'you have some brass balls' in her gaze.

"All the trouble you went through to get here," He continued slowly, contemplating it. "There must be something you're after? You could have just killed me downstairs."

"With all those people watching? I don't think so."

"We could be partners Courier, think it over…" He watched as that gun slowly raised again, casting around for something to say that would save his ass. "Don't you even care about the Chip?"

The gun kept on moving. "I don't even remember WHY I was carrying it to begin with, so no."

"I could tell you."

"I don't care, Shane. Thanks to you, I lost all my memories."

"Oh… shit."

"However," She smiled coldly. "I do believe this is a GREAT way to build some new ones."

**~!~**

**The Badlands, Nevada: 2270**

_What was he doing, River wondered as she watched the Enclave soldier walk up the trail that led to the ridge she was hiding on. The trail could hardly be called that as it was barely a trail, to the untrained eye at any rate._

_After their latest ass-whipping, the Enclave had pulled back. They hadn't left like Steve had expected, instead making themselves what looked to be a permanent camp. Which meant they were definitely here for something and not leaving until they got it and it was the Ranger's job to make sure they didn't._

_With the Enclave lurking like this, Steve was stretching them thin. Usually the Rangers doubled up for safety reasons, but he had them all posted throughout the region to keep tabs on Reno as well as near the border, rumors of Caesar's Legion having reached them._

_So she was up here alone, watching the Enclave encampment, more to the point, this one lone soldier who she had seen on several occasions. He was tall, taller than anyone she had ever met, and broad too. Unlike most of his fellow 'citizens', he wore his black hair long, it reached just at his shoulders. He also forwent the standard uniform of black armor for some type of black leather pants with a matching vest, displaying his arms which were covered in the most intricate, well done tattoos she had ever seen. Punk had a few tattoos, but nothing as finely done as these._

_He was cruel looking though, and smart from what she had determined, or at least he acted smart. And confident, confident bordering on arrogant. She longed to shoot his face, just to remove that look but Steve had expressly forbidden them to attack so close to the Enclave's encampment._

_However, if this man kept approaching, she was going to take her sniper and blow his head off anyway._

_River's attention was diverted behind her when something in the dry bushes rustled, rolling onto her back and aiming her gun that way. Right now would not be a very good time to be snuck up on by either a Bark Scorpion or a mutated rattlesnake._

_A throat clearing drew her attention to her right._

_The man was right there._

_"Oh shit!"_

_"Drop it, darlin'." He ordered when she swung her rifle upwards, kicking it out of her hand when she didn't listen. "Girl, that'll get you killed." He warned, sounding more amused than threatening._

_River just stared up at him, her eyes slowly moving to the combat rifle he carried, though he had it still in its sling, he was just that confident apparently._

_He extended a hand to her. "You're a Ranger." He said when she took it, helping her to her feet. "I recognize you, you shot Kendall." He still sound amused._

_"Kendall?"_

_"Hmm, you wouldn't know him, but you shot him. I remember… it was about two months ago, near that damn canyon…"_

_River was beyond confused right now, her hand slowly inching for her knife. This Enclave guy was… not what she expected. She should be dead by now, what the hell? Before she could grab the knife however, she suddenly found her back to his chest with both her wrists wrenched painfully behind her. "Ouch!"_

_"Don't be stupid, darlin', unless you WANT me to kill you." He drawled conversationally, bending down so his mouth was right by her ear. "I don't really have a problem with killing you, I just don't see the need too. But that could all change if you even think about startin' something you can't finish."_

_She gritted her teeth, feeling them grinding painfully. "Aren't you SUPPOSED to kill me?"_

_"You that eager to die?"_

_"Not particularly."_

_"Then don't ask stupid questions. Of course I'm supposed to kill you, but I very rarely play by anyone's rules but my own."_

_"You don't sound like Enclave material."_

_"I'm not." He said flatly, loosening his hold and letting her go. His eyes swept her over when she turned to face him, his lips curving into a grin. "You're nothin' but a baby!"_

_She slapped him as hard as she could, feeling her hand smarting from it, wanting nothing more than to just slit his throat. Just so she could see the look on his face when the 'baby' murdered his ass._

_That just seemed to amuse him all the more. "Do it again."_

_So she did._

_He began openly laughing at her._

_River lunged, her hands reaching for his throat._


	17. No Ma'am, Yes Man

I've made a banner for This Is War, and will very likely be making a few more. To see it, check out the link to Disenchanted on my profile page, the banner is at the beginning of TIW there.

**17: No Ma'am, Yes Man**

Shawn had given her the time she had asked for, and not a minute more. Which was probably a good thing because when he let himself into the suite, Shane and Courier were exchanging blows, literal punches. He lunged forward, grabbing Shane by the arms and dragged him away, his eyes automatically straying to Courier.

She didn't look none to worse for wear, her upper lip was busted open and there was a bruise forming on her left cheekbone but she seemed to be more pissed off than hurt.

As for Shane, he definitely got the short end of the stick. The man's face was covered in scratches, all of them bleeding, and he was sporting what promised to be a beauty of a black eye.

"What'd I miss?" He asked, tightening his hold on the squirming man.

"Apparently he tried to kill me just because he wanted that goddamn chip." Courier snarled, feeling her lip gingerly with the tip of her tongue, her eyes nearly black with her anger. "Because asking for it or just plain old theft minus murder wasn't enough."

"Do you know WHY he wanted it?"

"We were JUST getting to that part, weren't we Shane?"

"Fuck you, you crazy bitch." Shane spat out, wincing when he felt his wrists being wrenched, really wishing he had thought with his brains opposed to his balls. What had he been thinking?

Shawn winced when Courier punched Shane, again. When it looked like she was about to go completely insane, he let Shane go in order to wrap his arms around her, preventing her from going after the other man.

Shane did not waste any time in even trying for the door, he knew he wouldn't get past either of them. He wasn't going for his gun either; it now lay behind the bar along with hers. She had tossed them both, offering him a 'sporting' chance. Instead he headed for his bedroom, his heart hammering in his throat.

"Shawn, he's getting away!" Courier whispered frantically, looking over his shoulder as Shane disappeared into the other room.

"Let him damn it!" He growled, gripping her chin in one hand and forcing her to look up at him. "Do not let this ruin you, Katy. Don't stoop to what he is."

"Shawn, please, he-" She began struggling against him, knowing if Shane somehow managed to alert his bodyguards, they were both dead. Grunting, she shoved Shawn away from her and darted after Shane. "SON OF A BITCH!"

Sighing, Shawn followed her, already gathering that Shane had somehow gotten out. He arched an eyebrow when he found Courier peering through what had been a hidden doorway, which had apparently been Shane's escape route. "Katy?"

"He's gone, and he probably took the Platinum Chip with him." She said softly.

"I thought you didn't care about the chip?"

"I didn't, until now." Frowning, she turned and rubbed her scarred forehead, staring at him thoughtfully. "Shane said something about House finding out about him, and that ties in with the damn Chip. Shane knew how to find me, to find the Chip."

Shawn was silent for a moment, unraveling all that. "So…"

"So there's something really big going on here, and I got dragged into it."

"What're you going to do?"

"Find out what the fuck is going on." She stepped into the other room, letting out another curse. "I HATE robots!"

Both curious and confused, Shawn stepped in after her. He halted when he seen the Securitron, and a few workbenches, wondering just what they were about to get themselves involved in.

"Hello." The robot greeted amicably enough, a smiling face on its screen. "I'm Yes Man. If you're looking for Benny, he's long gone by now."

This robot was too chipper, the only thing in its favor was the lack of a cowboy face and a southern drawl.

"What can I do for you today?"

It was also apparently very helpful.

"What are you doing back here?" Courier asked cautiously, spotting another door and gestured at it.

Nodding, Shawn walked over to it and cautiously stuck his head out, huffing. "It's a service tunnel." He announced, stepping through the door and disappearing.

"Good question!" The robot said cheerfully, not paying any attention to Shawn. "My function is to monitor Mr. House's data network and decode his encrypted transmissions."

She arched an eyebrow.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm a PDQ-88b Securitron, but you can call me Yes Man!"

"Yes Man? What kind of name is Yes Man?"

"It's what Shane always called me. Probably because I'm programmed to be so helpful!"

Shawn walked back into the room, shaking his head. "He must've taken the servant's elevator down because he's not up here."

"Great… Shawn, meet Yes Man."

Shawn eyeballed the robot. "Yes Man?"

"It's because I'm helpful." Yes Man said, obviously not minding having to repeat himself. "You can wait for Shane here if you like. I'm incapable of asking you to leave."

Now they both had raised eyebrows.

"Why are you incapable?" Courier asked, walking over to the workbenches and began shifting through the clutter that littered them, searching for the Chip though she knew that was probably futile.

"I was programmed to be helpful and to answer any questions I was asked. I guess nobody bothered to restrict who I helped or answered questions for. That was probably pretty dumb, huh?"

"This Shane is not the brightest fella, is he?" Shawn muttered, staring at the securitron. Not for the first time, he was wondering just what he had walked himself into, glancing at Courier who was now staring at the wall with a blank expression on her face.

"Did Shane reprogram you himself?"

"No. He had some woman do it."

"Can you be reprogrammed now?"

"By someone who knows what they are doing, most certainly."

"Do you know how to reprogram yourself?"

"I can walk you through it."

"Katy, what are you doin'?" Shawn demanded, watching as she picked up a screwdriver.

She flashed him a wicked smile. "I'm going to change Yes Man's little tendency to be helpful to everyone."

He had a feeling this wasn't going to end well.

**~!~**

"Kitten, I was wondering where you had gotten off too." David said when he spotted the woman that had come in the day before stepping off the elevator. He had seen her male friend leave earlier this morning, but no sign of her. He had just finished his shift at the front desk and was ready to have a few drinks and then crash, maybe with a warm body beside him.

She smiled at him, reaching up to brush a lock of her black hair off her face. "I was up in the Presidential suite." She informed him.

"Shane's room?" His brown eyes widened. When she nodded, he frowned. "Shane took off like a bat out of hell yesterday, you know why?"

"No. Something about 'business'."

He groaned, running a hand down his face. It seemed that Shane was disappearing for long periods of time more and more on this secretive 'business' of his. Which wasn't really a bad thing as that meant David was in charge, the problem was: David did not like having to hand back over the reins of power whenever Shane decided to come waltzing back in.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." She apologized quickly, confusion on her face, obviously wondering where she had gone wrong.

"You didn't baby doll," He quickly assured her, flashing a tired grin. "You know, I never got your name."

"I never got yours either." She shot back playfully.

"Dave, Dave Bautista." He extended his hand to her, his fingers wrapping around her own tiny hand when she slid it into his.

"River Brooks."

**~!~**

"What do you mean she's staying at the Tops?" Melina demanded crossly. She and John had spent two nights at the Atomic Wrangler, and that was two nights too many. She liked having a bed to sleep on opposed to the ground, but the environment wasn't all that spectacular. She didn't mind drunks, or whores, she just preferred not to be in a room NEXT to a whore. That shit got loud, and very disgusting. Especially since the whore in question also happened to be a Ghoul.

Ew.

Shawn sat down on the bed, tiredly pulling off his boots. He had spent one night at the Tops with Courier and then went to the Vault to conduct his business. He was reluctant to leave her there, uncertain if Shane would come back, but she had reassured him she would be fine and that most likely Shane was already half way across the Mojave by now. That and he HAD to get to the Vault and make sure those supplies were shipped to Goodsprings ASAP.

That and he couldn't keep trying to protect her, not when she was so hell bent on destroying herself.

"Just that," He answered after a moment, aware John was sitting in the corner of the room watching him. "She's stayin' there, said she'd be back in the morning."

"What about Shane?"

"He took off."

"So… he's still alive and she's staying in his room?"

"Yes."

"That woman is fucking INSANE."

**~!~**

Courier had to admit, the return of her memories couldn't have happened at a better time. Because she was now recalling knowledge she already possessed as well as how to apply it. Granted, she was pretty rusty, but… all that really mattered at the moment was that Yes Man would no longer be helpful to anyone but her, including Shane if he ever decided to come on back.

Handling David had been easy, and she hadn't even had to seduce him. He had been blunt about his desire to 'get to know her better', but easily deflected. He had also granted her rights to keep on using Shane's suite, without asking too many questions about why.

David was over eager and not very bright when it came to thinking outside the box. She liked that in a man.

The reason she had stayed behind was because of Yes Man. This robot had answers for some of her questions, and she wasn't leaving without them.

"Shane," She began, sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, a cigarette from the pack David had given her dangling between her fingers. "stole a Platinum Chip from me. Do you know what it's for?"

"Sure. Shane had me look at it a bunch of times. It's a data storage device, kind of like a holotape but a lot more advanced. As for what's on it, well…"

"Well?" She prompted.

"Some of Mr. House's data transmissions made it sound like the Chip could upgrade his defenses somehow. That's just a guess though. The Chip's a proprietary format, you'd need special hardware to read the data on it."

"Where would I find this data?"

"There are two locations with non-standard hardware on the network. The Lucky 38 and an underground facility at Fortification Hill. I'd look there!"

Courier was quiet for a moment, considering that. Well, now at least she knew the Chip hadn't just been some gambler's expensive idea of a joke. "What did Shane want with the Chip?" She asked after a moment.

"Oh! He wants to kill Mr. House and use the Platinum Chip to copy my neuro-computational matrix onto the Lucky 38's mainframe."

"Which would do what exactly?"

"Give me control over all of Mr. House's defenses, most importantly his Securitrons. And then I just do what Shane tells me."

"So basically, he wanted to take control of New Vegas."

"Yes."

"Hmmm…"


	18. Rangers vs Legion, Pt 1

**A/N:** This entire chapter is set eleven years before the Courier winds up shot in Goodsprings, more of her history as well as appearances from 'Taker, the Legion, and various others, so I didn't bother with italics. For anyone familiar with the game, yes, I'm tampering with Fallout history, again. :)

**18: Rangers vs. Legion, Pt 1**

**The Badlands, Nevada: 2270**

"You're going to get caught."

'Taker smirked at River's warning, settling himself on the ground beside her. "You're not worried you'll be?" He asked, reaching over to grab her flask of water, taking a long swallow.

"No." She scowled, snatching it back and stuffed it into her satchel. For some unknown reason, the Enclave mercenary had decided to not kill her and instead had been coming regularly to her post to chat with her, like they were neighbors opposed to enemies. It was disturbing.

What was even more disturbing was the fact that she hadn't tried to kill him either, finding his company… different but entertaining. There was something about him that drew her in. He hadn't asked for any information regarding the Rangers, and she didn't ask about the Enclave. It was like they had their own personal understanding and the war was forgotten when it was just them.

River was abruptly pulled from her thoughts when she felt 'Taker dragging her closer to him, letting out a yelp of surprise as his hands pushed on her shoulders, forcing her upper body down to the ground while her legs were put in the undignified position of being wrapped around him. "What are you doing?" She demanded, keeping the panic from seeping into her tone, her teeth gnashing as he kept a tight hold on her wrists, raising them over her head until he could hold them both with one hand.

She caught a hint of teeth when he smirked at her.

**~!~**

'UP, EVERYONE UP!"

River shot out of her bunk and immediately rolled out of bed, her eyes darting towards the door. She had never seen Steve look so… frantic, that was the only word for it.

"The Legion is moving towards Reno and we're going to intercept." He announced, watching as his Rangers formed a line, pacing before them. "I've already sent ahead messengers to our Reno base, but by the time they've grouped and joined us, we're going to be hip-deep in shit."

"Just the way we like it, Sir." Carlito 'Carly' Colon shouted from his place, smirking when Steve reluctantly smiled.

"You say that now, son, but this isn't going to be a walk in the park. Unlike those Enclave shits, the Legion does NOT stop." Steve looked at them all again, his face grim. "I want everyone to suit up and be ready to ride, we assemble in the yard in fifteen minutes."

River turned and immediately bent down to open her footlocker, glancing sideways when Phil cleared his throat. "Don't start."

"You know he'd leave you-"

"Behind, yeah, if I asked, but I'm not going too."

"Riv…" He began changing into his own uniform, for once not bothering to make sure the other guys were keeping their eyes where they belonged and not on his semi-nude sister. She wasn't the only female Desert Ranger, but she was the only one currently on-base. Steve's wife –Trish- was in Reno, which Phil was sure had Steve mentally going apeshit.

"Brooks! Austin wants to see you before you go to the yard!"

"Which Brooks?"

"The hot one."

River snorted, quickly fastening her pants before sliding her feet into her boots, stooping to tie them. "Grab my gear and take it to the yard for me." She ordered, pecking her brother on the cheek before grabbing her sunglasses off the nightstand she shared with him and hurrying out the door. She navigated the familiar path to Austin's office with a bit more difficultly than usual, Ranger streaming out of rooms and all heading for the yard, all of them dressed for a fight and all packing heat. "You wanted to see me, Sir?" She asked after knocking on the door and getting a harsh 'enter'.

Steve's blue eyes were grim as he studied her. River was one of his best, even if she was both young and a woman. Hell, his wife was a very well-known and thought of Ranger, so he knew women definitely had their place. But his wife was in Reno, in charge of the Ranger station posted there, she would be safe.

River Brooks was 19 years old, a damn good scout, had brilliant aim and a brilliant mind. She was also very easy on the eyes, as if having brains and the ability to kill a man in a dozen different ways wasn't enough. It was the fact that she was young and pretty that had him worried.

"You know what the Legion does to the women they capture." He said flatly.

"Yes, Sir."

"Tell me then."

"The women they do not keep for slaves or breeding purposes, they rape and kill. Even if a woman is kept, she is generally raped regardless. Women of the Legion have no purpose but to bear children and tend to the men and camp." She recited from memory.

"Which category, Brooks, do you fall under?"

She hesitated. "I do not understand, Sir."

"Would you be one of the slaves they kept for a good time and to pop out kids, or would you be a rape and then murder victim?"

"I would be simply a murder victim, Sir."

"How do you figure that, Brooks?"

"Because a man with no dick isn't going to be raping anyone, Sir."

In spite of everything and the severity of the situation, Steve found himself smiling. "Point made, Brooks, get to the yard."

"Yes, Sir!"

**~!~**

"The Legion thinks they're going to expand into OUR territory!" Steve shouted as he stared down at his Rangers, each and every one of them suited up and ready to go, not a single face showing a hint of fear. "Are we going to let them?"

"HELL NO!" They all roared back at him.

"Did we let the Enclave?"

"HELL NO!"

"Do we let ANYONE take what's ours?"

"HELL NO!"

"Damn straight!"

**~!~**

Even though he had let her join in the fight, Steve had still given her the 'safest' job he could. He had put her in a team of snipers, a small team consisting of her, Carly, and Evan Bourne. They were all relatively small, quiet, and dead on with their aim. They had been given the job of 'covering everyone's ass', and making sure the Legion didn't try to sneak attack from behind, nobody liked being flanked.

Of course, three people wouldn't do much to prevent a full-scale attack, but they weren't normal, and they were all well-equipped.

Austin had left behind Rangers at the base for the sole purpose of making sure the Enclave didn't decide to take advantage. The Legion had picked one HELL of a time to come encroaching.

Not taking the direct route their fellow Rangers were, the trio went high, using the ridges for both cover and to keep an eye on the skirmish. It did not take long for the ground Rangers to intercept the Legion.

The Legion was terrifying.

Caesar had brought his entire horde it looked like, as if conquering everything else hadn't been enough… As if taking over Flagstaff, Arizona and pushing the Rangers into Nevada hadn't been enough… Caesar's greed made him overstretch what seemed to be impossible boundaries.

"That is… a lot… of soldiers." Evan commented, peering out his scope, easily spotting the red flags and banners, the armor that was not only flashy but at the same time did its job very well. He glanced at River and then to Carly who was looking grim –which was not a usual look for him.

"Steve's leading them into the canyon, and if we watch the neck…" Carly frowned slightly, really not liking this 'corralling' idea of Steve's, not without more snipers perched up high, but there hadn't been more to spare. "We got this."

"Hell yes we do." River said encouragingly, smiling at her teammates.

**~!~**

His ice cold blue eyes surveyed the battle, wondering if this was really the best the Desert Rangers had to offer. He had already driven them from Arizona, now he had every intention of removing them from existence period.

Caesar was once the man Randy Orton, a member of the Followers of the Apocalypse, but they were not for him. He knew his destiny, and it was not administering to the less fortunate or educating the uneducated with old histories and truths.

He was not in the battle himself, he had proven himself time and time again, and only if he had to or if it suited him, he would bloody his hands. But he was a tactical genius, and he best served his Empire by not getting himself in a position that might wind up with him dead. His Legate knew where to look for orders. Behind him stood his two personal slaves, each of them carrying a banner, different flags available to replace the current, each color meaning a different thing, a different attack if necessary.

Ranger Steve Austin thought that he was luring them into a trap, sealing them into this wall to wall to wall area with only one escape route, and no doubt that route was even now being watched. Randy snorted at the thought, now scanning the ridges for signs of snipers, knowing their attention would not be on him but the action below.

When he found what he was looking for, he smirked. "Change the banners to black." He ordered before walking away from the slaves, knowing they wouldn't even attempt escaping, too terrified of what could happen if they tried.

**~!~**

"Brooks, what are you doing?" Evan demanded when River began scooting backwards, off the ledge.

"The banners are black." She grunted, wishing she was a bit taller as she swung her feet about, finally feeling rock beneath them. "Caesar's moved."

"We have our orders…" Which had not included attempting to take out the leader of the Legion, though if Steve had known that the bastard would actually show, he probably would have been all for it.

"I know what our orders are." River shot back, her head disappearing from sight next. "You two watch the neck, I'm going to see if I can't give that sonbitch a Ranger hello."

"One in the head?"

"Yep."

Carly shook his own head, turning his attention back to the battle, which was getting uglier by the minute, he couldn't tell which side was winning, but he could definitely see blood from the losers. They had spotted Caesar but as he had been alone with two unarmed civilians, they hadn't bothered with him. Caesar himself wasn't dangerous, it was the armies at his disposal that usually made people worry.


	19. Rangers vs Legion, Pt 2

**A/N: Another chapter set in the past, so no italics. Sorry for the delay, I was out with a the weather changed overnight and screwed me up cold. Chris will be eventually making an appearance, taking over one of the Fallout NPCs ^^ I could not honestly see John playing the role of Caesar, well I could, but not as much as Randy. That and I already had a John/Melina pairing in mind so he got stuck being Boone XD**

**19: Rangers vs. Legion, Pt 2**

"Where'd you go…" River breathed, scanning for Caesar. Somewhere between him disappearing from his protected spot and her climbing down to more level ground, he had… vanished. Slinging her sniper behind her and adjusting the strap that held it, she crouched low to the ground and began moving towards where she had last seen him.

She had crossed the 'neck' without being seen by fighters on either side of the line; and was beginning to scale the ridge when a hand grabbed the back of her pants, and pulled.

Cursing, River jerked herself free and landed on her feet, whirling around only to see her prey had been stalking her. "Shit…"

**~!~**

Randy stared at the female ranger, wondering idly if Austin really thought these pathetic creatures were worthy of combat. The only thing most females were good for had to do with what lay between their legs. "Looking for someone?" He demanded, backing her into the rock wall and brought his clenched fist pounding down beside her head.

"Yeah, you." She said flatly, having apparently recovered her wits. "Caesar, right?"

He tilted his head to the side, nostrils flaring.

"Thought so."

She was surprisingly quick, he thought dispassionately, backhanding her viciously across the cheek when a hunting knife glinted in the corner of his vision. She had managed to actually unsheathe it and bring it up a way before he had noticed, quick indeed. "You thought what?" He sneered, smacking her again when she had the audacity to stay on her feet instead of falling away and scuttling back like the worthless waste of flesh she was. "That you, a mere woman, could best me?"

**~!~**

To say she was pissed off would have been a serious understatement. River was beyond pissed, she didn't even know if how angry she was even had an actual name. Hocking out a wad of blood, she stared upwards at the man called Caesar. Like Steve, he had piercing blue eyes, but was that the end of the similarities. Steve's eyes were cool, and could occasionally be downright icy, but they were… human. The man staring down at her showed nothing but… well, she was assuming his happy place involved a lot of death.

When Caesar reached for her, she threw herself forward, one shoulder crashing into his legs while she threw her hands out, sending all her weight into him. He toppled to the harsh, dusty ground and she wasted no time in clambering on top of him and balling up a fist.

It was more than satisfying seeing blood pooling at the corner of his mouth, so much for being a mere woman. Not taking the time to gloat, she began punching him in the face as hard as she could with one hand, the other fumbling with her gun.

"You bitch!" He roared in pain, managing to free his arms from where she had pinned them to his sides with her knees, shoving her off of him. He scrambled to his feet, feeling his bloodied and bruised face, blinking to clear his vision. His hands flew to his head, feeling one of his migraines coming on, no doubt due to this ranger whore.

Either he was suffering a hellacious headache or trying to reel her in. Either way, River was going to take a chance. She backed up, swinging her sniper around until it was pointing at him. "I think I've bested you." She smirked.

At the same time she pulled the trigger, she was tackled from the side, causing her shot to not hit where she had intended, instead the bullet grazed Caeser's temple, causing him to instantly drop without the bonus of being dead.

She had been attacked by one of his foot soldiers, who was apparently going to try choking her to death because his hands were wrapped tightly around her throat. She began hitting whatever she could reach, struggling to throw him off of her, trying to ignore the black spots that were beginning to dance in her vision.

Just as suddenly as she had been attacked, it was over, the soldier was off of her and River heard a muffled cracking noise over the sound of air whooshing back into her system as she took several deep breath, coughing violently.

"Come on, darlin'."

"'Taker?" Startled blue eyes shot up to meet his, for once not finding any amusement in his gaze.

"We have to get out of here."

~!~

'Taker had literally carried her away from the battle, which was not what River wanted. She wanted to go back and finish the damn job, Caesar was down, she could have easily finished him off!

"Goddamn you!" She shrieked the minute he had put her down, not bothering to look around and scout her location but instead took a swing at him. It wasn't as effective as it would have been normally, she had to jump to actually reach his face. "Take me back!"

"Are you fucking insane, woman?" He demanded, rubbing the red spot she had left with her pathetic punch. "You could have gotten-"

"I almost had Caesar!"

"You never had him!"

"Are you-" She swung again, cursing when he caught her fist this time and pulled her against him, feeling the hardness of his body melding against hers, and really hated him for it. "I had him." She whispered.

"Yeah, you probably did." He admitted, grunting when she smacked him again. "One more time, Riv, and I'll fuck you up." He threatened, smirking when she shivered.

After a moment, she tried stepping away from him, knowing he was allowing it, and looked around. "Where are we?" She asked, frowning as she took in the surrounding area. "Never mind, we're about a mile from base."

"Yes. This way you won't have too long a walk back."

Still frowning, she looked back up at him. "Why?"

"Because I figured you didn't want to walk your ass through the desert alone at night?"

He was purposefully being stupid and it irritated her. "Don't. Be straight with me, 'Taker. Why did you come? You're Enclave… unless, did you fucks attack while we were out?"

He wasn't surprised in the least when she once again got violent with him, catching her by the wrists and hauled her against him, again. "Trust me, if the Enclave had attacked your base, I wouldn't be here with you. Well, not with you alive."

"Bastard."

"I'm honest."

River didn't bother trying to smack him again. No, if she was going to get physical with him, the physicality would be with a weapon as her fists had already proved ineffective. Frowning, she turned in the direction that she knew the ranger base was located, mentally sorting herself off and then turned towards where the battle had been raging.

"I didn't save your dumb ass only for you to go walkin' right back into danger." He cautioned harshly, watching the wheels in her head turning.

"I didn't ask for your help."

"River…" He backed up when she whirled on him, gun in her hand. "Goddamn it, you fool woman!"

"Ranger first, woman second."

Well, that he could relate too… "You really going to shoot me? After I just saved-" 'Taker stopped there, knowing if he was honest with himself, he hadn't JUST saved her. He had saved her and taken away her chance to finish off Caeser… in hindsight, not the best move.

"Fuck yes I am. My family is back there fighting." Keeping the gun trained on him, she backed away, waiting until there was a decent distance between them before turning and running. She appreciated him stopping that foot soldier from killing her, she didn't appreciate all the rest. She would rather fight and die, then run and be alive.

All he could was watch as she disappeared into the desert.

**~!~**

"River!" Evan screamed when he seen her, pushing himself off the ground and began running towards her, slipping and sliding in the sand…. And bodies. When he was close enough, he launched himself at her, pulling her against him. "We thought you were dead!"

"Not quite." She muttered, pressing her head against his momentarily before stepping back, her eyes widening as she took in the blood that coated him. "Is it over?"

"For now."

"How… who won?"

Evan managed a strained smile. "We did. Caesar disappeared mid-way through… but…"

"But what?"

"Steve was targeted, and-"

"Is he alright?"

"Yes… but…"

River frowned when Evan hesitated, feeling an arm wrapping around her waist and glanced to her side to find Carly staring down at her, sorrow on his own dirty face. "What happened?" She demanded, feeling something beginning to fester in the pit of her belly, panic.

"River… it's Phil…"

**~!~**

River didn't look up from her place next to the table that her brother's body rested on, reaching out with tender fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear.

"Brooks… River," Steve said, reaching out a hand to place on her shoulder, feeling her muscles tensing beneath the palm of his hand. "There…" He stopped, knowing anything he said wasn't going to make her feel better. "He didn't feel anythin' in the end, honey." That was about the best he could offer her.

River still didn't acknowledge him, her hand moving down Phil's body, which was covered with his ranger armor, until she could take his cold, stiff hand in hers.

Steve lingered for a moment, knowing she wasn't going to talk to him. She hadn't spoken to anyone since Carlito and Evan had told her what had happened. She had gone a bit wild, rushing through the wounded, dying, and glad to be alive until she had found him. He had been injured himself, and was now walking with his leg in a brace, having taken a blow to his knee. Philip had intercepted the second blow, which had been aimed for his head. Phil had died on impact.

They had cleaned and mended Phil up as best they could for the burial which was to be tonight around sundown; and when they were finished, River had been allowed in. That was yesterday, she hadn't budged since as far as Steve knew.

Sighing softly, he patted her shoulder gently.


	20. The Mark of Caesar

**20: The Mark of Caesar. **

After spending three days at the Tops, Courier was ready to get the hell out of there. She would be back, she wasn't finished with Yes Man, but she needed fresh air. A change of scenery was definitely in order, not to mention she was beginning to find Dave annoying. He had his uses, but he wouldn't stop sending her gifts, and she knew she was eventually going to have to respond to him. Avoiding a messy confrontation was on her list of things to do.

Some of his gifts were fairly practical though. She had quickly discovered that while her black leather armor wasn't totally strange, it was considered 'low class' and made things a bit difficult for her. If she was going to be on the Strip, she figured she might as well blend in with the other citizens.

Dave had sent up a dress, a pair of low heeled shoes, and a hat. She kept the shoes and dress, throwing the hat on top of the wardrobe that had been Shane's. All of Shane's stuff, she had thrown down the garbage chute; she really doubted the son of a bitch was coming back.

So she had put on the knee length dress, having to take several moments just to figure out how the top actually worked. She now knew what a 'halter' style dress was and did not particularly like it. After arranging her hair in a style similar to what she had seen on the Strip, she lid on the shoes and headed out of the suite. Of course she was marked by the Pipboy 3000 on her wrist, but there really wasn't any way to take it off, not by herself at least, and as it was a helpful little gadget she wasn't too keen on taking it off. Not to fit in.

Fortunately for her, Dave was not at the desk when she peered into the lobby, and not wanting to tempt fate, she hauled her cookies across the dirty carpet, quickly stepping out into the street.

She took a moment to adjust to the bright sunlight, blinking rapidly, and when her vision cleared, she frowned.

Walking towards her was the Legion guy from Nipton, Vulpes… something. She frowned, taking in the clothes he wore. He looked just like anyone else on the Strip, wearing a suit, cleaned up… but there was an arrogance in his stride, a sneer on his lips. She wanted to shoot him on sight, not only from their previous meeting but because she now remembered Caesar's Legion completely and what they stood for, what they had done.

"Don't even think about it, woman." He said when her hand reached for the gun holstered at her waist, his eyes narrowing. "I come with a message for you."

Her own eyes narrowed.

"The eyes of the mighty Caesar are upon you."

An image of cold, blue-grey eyes flickered through her mind, causing her to shudder slightly.

"He admires your accomplishments, and bestows upon you the exceptional gift of his Mark."

Frowning, Courier watched as he reached into his vest pocket, remembering how Shane had done this before only to then shoot her in the head. The urge to cover her head was overwhelming. She inwardly sighed with relief when Vulpes simply pulled out a pendant that hung on a silver chain, hesitantly reaching out for it when he offered it to her. "Vulpes…"

"Ted, I am merely Ted when I am here." He corrected coldly.

"Ted… what the hell is this?" She demanded, holding it up into the light. Hanging from the chain was a round coin type charm, with what looked like a bull engraved on it.

"The Mark of Caesar."

"What's the point of it?" She corrected herself, clutching it tightly in her fist, tempted to throw it right back at him. She wanted NOTHING from Caesar, nothing that he could give her at any rate.

"Any crimes you may have committed against the Legion are hereby forgiven." Ted informed her gravely.

She wondered if they had any idea who she was, because her crimes against the Legion previous to losing her many were quite numerous.

"Caesar will not extend this mercy a second time."

"How generous of him." She said, deadpanning. "Just what the fuck does he want with me?"

"My Lord requires your presence at his camp, at Fortification Hill. His Mark will guarantee your safe-conduct through our lands."

There was no way in Hell she was walking right into Caesar's camp, not without an army behind her. She shut her eyes, images of the battle at Hoover Dam invading her thoughts, none of them anything she wanted to ever witness or be a part of ever again.

Apparently Ted realized she wasn't likely to go because he smiled almost evilly. "Incidentally, it will interest you to know that the man you seek has fled the Strip."

He had her interest now.

"He is most likely making haste for Caesar's camp as we speak."

Courier groaned. "What does Caesar want with me?" She demanded, wondering if this was a trap.

"Go to him, and you will understand."

"You do realize, TED, that if I go, and this is nothing but a trap, I'll be taking a lot of you with me." She warned icily, not surprised when his grin just got even more wicked if possible.

"Of that I have no doubt." He bowed his head to her. "Seek Caesar by way of Cottonwood Cove, south of Nelson. The Cursor Lucullus will be waiting."

She could only watch as he turned and walked away from her, still clutching the pendant in her hand.

**~!~**

**The Mojave Desert: 2271, Desert Ranger's Outpost**

"_Happy birthday, Brooks."_

"_Fuck OFF, Colon…"_

"_Aw…" Carlito dropped down onto her bed, sighing when she didn't uncurl from the ball she had scrunched herself up in, and moved so he was laying down beside her. The narrow cot wasn't exactly built for two, and he was half hanging off of it, but he managed, wrapping an arm around her. He felt her tensing and frowned. This wasn't obviously related to turning 20, and he had a feeling he knew what her problem was. "River, it's not your fault." He said softly, gently rolling her over so she was facing him, not surprised by the tears that streaked her face. "What happened to Evan… there was nothing you could have done…"_

_Their friend, their comrade in the sniper unit, Evan Bourne, had been patrolling and been ambushed by a small force of Legion assassins. When his body had been recovered, there was a bullet wound to his skull though that wasn't the cause of death. It was a message._

_Only River knew that though._

_The cause of death had been crucifixion, which was the Legion's calling card._

_Carlito held her against him when her body began to shake, sobs finally escaping her, and knew this had been a long time in coming. She had held everything back when Phil had died, and now… the barriers had been broken. "I'm here, Riv…" He soothed, burying his face in her hair. "I'm still here."_

_**~!~**_

'_Taker barely ducked the knife that came flying at him, cursing when he heard it whistling by where his head had been only moments ago. "What the FUCK, River?" He demanded, tackling her before she could try that one again. Grunting, he shifted so he was sitting astride her, gripping her wrists tightly. "I haven't seen you in months, and the first thing you try to do is kill me? I thought we were past that, darlin'."_

"_You were wrong."_

_He transferred both wrists to one hand, using his free hand to free his own hunting knife, pressing it against her throat. "Really? Because if you want to die, I can accommodate you."_

"_Go for it."_

_He frowned, staring down at her. Really looking at her, and recognized what he was seeing. Guilt. He had seen it in her eyes after her brother had died. "Who died?" He demanded gruffly, getting off of her and just sitting there in the dirt._

_Slowly, River sat up beside him, drawing her knees to her chest. "Bourne."_

_He had no idea who that was, but from the way her voice cracked over the name, he was guessing someone important to her._

"_The Legion got him."_

_He winced. The Legion was more brutal than the Enclave ever thought of being. He rather admired their methods of doing away with people, it saved on bullets as well as sent a message. Not that he would ever volunteer himself to go that way; it wasn't a fun way to go. Not knowing what to say, because he simply wasn't the kind of guy who offered comforting words, he simply wrapped his arm around her._

"_I thought the Enclave was pulling out?" She asked quietly._

_For a moment, he was taken aback by that. They usually kept clear of topics regarding their respective allegiances. But then again, considering what a pain in the ass the Enclave had been, he supposed it made sense that the Rangers were still keeping tabs on them. "They are."_

"_Are you going with them?"_

_He arched an eyebrow, gently turning her so she was facing him, turning as well and stared down at her intently. When she refused to meet his gaze, he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "River, open your eyes."_

_Reluctantly, she did._

"_You are a Ranger." He said flatly. "And I am Enclave. Outside of the fun we've had, we don't have a future. Not with each other."_

_She closed her eyes again._


	21. The Lucky 38

**21: The Lucky 38**

Victor, that goddamn robot, was right there standing at the entrance to the Lucky 38. Courier frowned as she approached him, not surprised in the least when he rolled forward to greet her.

"Well howdy partner, good to see you!"

The damn thing had been following her.

"The boss is waitin' for ya upstairs, so get a move on!"

"Mr. House?"

"Yep." Victor rolled away, leaving the way to the doors open. "He's been waitin' on ya for a few days now, best not keep him waitin' anymore."

**~!~**

The Lucky 38 looked like it had never been touched, like the Great War had never happened. She walked into the building to find everything looking like it must have before the War. The carpets were clean and in mostly pristine condition, other than deep treads that showed where Securitrons had been by. The slot machines were still up and running, cheerfully lit up and making their little ding ding noises… it was disconcerting.

Before her was an elevator, the row to it was guarded by Securitrons, with one standing right before her. She glimpsed its blank screen for a brief moment before it was filled with Victor's cowboy face. Victor who she had left outside, she really hated these things.

"To the penthouse, miss!"

Feeling like she had stepped into an alternate reality, Courier walked onto the elevator. The ride up seemed to take forever, and through it all she could only wonder what Mr. House wanted with her. What did Caesar want with her? What the hell was going on? She knew who Mr. House was thanks to Yes Man, and felt her stomach churning slightly. Had this man she was about to meet known Shane? Known of Shane's schemes?

When the elevator doors opened, she was greeted to yet another Securitron rolling up to her. This one had a woman's face on its screen: a woman with elegantly coiffed hair with a flower tucked behind her ear and a face that would have been beautiful if it wasn't two-dimensional.

"Well hey there honey! Mr. House is waiting for you in the next room, you shouldn't keep him waiting any longer."

Courier was going to hazard a guess that Mr. House was also a Securitron. At this point, nothing would really surprise her. She followed the winding stairs down a level, marveling at how open the rooms were, and the view… the outer walls were nothing but panes of reinforced glass, or some other material, regardless, the view was breathtaking, if you didn't look down.

At the bottom of the steps was nothing but marble floor, and a second flight of stairs some odd feet away. Towards the windows, on what looked to be a small marble stage with a lot of electronic equipment, including a giant monitor that could have crushed several people if it fell. On this monitor was the image of a middle-aged man with slicked back black and grey hair and a very impressive mustache. She was getting tired of the faces on machines. That feeling wasn't helped by the arrogant expression on the man's face.

"If you had spoken to Victor before stomping into the Tops, I could have helped to prepare you."

The voice that came over the speakers was just as arrogant as the face that stared down at her.

"Because of your carelessness, Shane has fled the Strip, taking with him the Platinum Chip."

"Tell me something I don't know, Mr. House." She said tiredly.

"Shane was highly resourceful. He would have made a fine agent, had he stayed loyal. It's fortunate that you came along to replace him –and ironic."

Courier did not find any of this ironic so much as annoying. "I'm not your gopher, House." She cautioned, unsure just what he thought she had come along for. "I'm only up here out of curiosity."

"So you have no interest in finding out where Shane went?"

She gritted her teeth, already having a general idea. "Not particularly."

"He is heading for Caesar's camp, at Fortification Hill. I am aware, Courier, that you have just been invited to go there yourself by Caesar himself no less."

She didn't bother asking how he knew; she had seen all the robots on the streets. The Strip was House's turf, and she suspected not a lot went down without him knowing about it. "Why would he go there?" She asked, playing along with his assumption that she didn't know what was going on outside of Shane deciding to put a hole in her forehead.

"Because it is one of two places on Earth that have the hardware necessary to read the Platinum Chip –the Lucky 38 is the other, of course."

"Of course."

"So our next step is for you to infiltrate Caesar's camp at Fortification Hill, which as you already have an invitation, shouldn't be too hard."

Her eyes narrowed.

~!~

"Pack your shit, we're moving."

Melina raised her head off the pillow, groaning as light spilled into the dark room. "Courier?" She had no idea what time it was, there were no windows to even show if it were day or night. "What the hell?"

Courier reached for the light switch, arching an eyebrow when she seen John pulling the sheet over his head, fairly certain she had glimpsed bare chest. The whole scenario was complete when Melina shoved back blankets and swung her naked legs over the side of the bed. Melina was entirely naked. In bed. With John. They had hooked up. She idly wondered if John had been drinking. It was already a given that Melina had been.

"Did you say we're movin'?" Melina yawned, bending down to reach for her jeans.

"Yes."

"Where too?"

"The Lucky 38."

John sat upright at that, the sheet falling down to his hips.

He was definitely nude too.

~!~

"I don't understand any of this, Courier." Shawn said an hour later, sitting down in the bar of the Atomic Wrangler, keeping his voice down low so no wouldn't be overheard. Upstairs, John and Melina were getting their asses up and around, and probably either going at it again or pretending it never happened. "You're movin' into the Lucky 38?"

"Yes, for now." She stared at him intently, seeing a million and one questions burning in his eyes and reached across the table to gently touch the back of his hand. "Any chance I could talk you into coming with me?"

He turned his hand over in order to take hers, squeezing gently. "That depends, Courier. Just what is it you're plannin' on doing, honey?"

"I don't know yet." She admitted. "I'm… confused, and lost. I thought I wanted Shane dead, and to a point I still do, but… there's something much bigger than that going on, Shawn. Something I've been dragged into."

"Something you can walk away from?"

"I'm not sure anymore."

~!~

"You have run of the building, Miss Katy." Victor said when Courier and the rest showed up. "Your friends too, except for the penthouse. Nobody but you allowed up there."

"Alright, okay." Courier led the way inside, hearing Melina's low whistle. She felt Shawn reaching for her hand and groped for his, threading her fingers through his. "Up this way."

"Straight to the Presidential suite!" Victor called before the doors closed behind them.

John looked uncomfortable, staring straight ahead while Melina kept glancing at him.

"Presidential suite, huh?" Shawn smiled down at her, worry in his eyes. "You sure are movin' up in the world, honey."

Courier just smiled tensely.

~!~

"We need to talk."

Courier was unpacking her satchel in the master bedroom, listening to the radio when she heard John's voice. Turning, she found him leaning in the open doorway and arched an eyebrow at him. "Okay Cena, what about?"

John studied the room, noting the red décor, which matched the rest of the suite. There was the master bedroom along with an adjacent bathroom, a dining room, a kitchen, recreation room, a second bathroom, and a guest room with several beds all partitioned off for some privacy. Melina had promptly destroyed those partitions, which John was assuming was her way of telling him she wasn't letting him get away from her so easily.

He hadn't been surprised when Courier took the master bedroom, nudged along by the damn robot that had been waiting to meet them. Nor was he surprised when Shawn had made himself at home in the master bedroom either. He didn't want to or care to know about whatever their arrangement was. What he did care about was just what the hell he was doing here.

"What're you plans, Courier?"

"Good question Cena, I'm kind of making them up as I go along at this point."

"I've noticed."

Courier already knew she was eventually going to be heading towards Fortification Hill, and she most definitely could not take John with her. He had made it abundantly kill he had a shoot first, don't bother asking later question concerning the Legion. She needed to get in and out without being massacred. "I have business out in the desert, business I won't need your services for."

He grunted, wondering just why she had bothered enlisting him then.

"However, Melina needs to do some traveling. She wants to check in on locations where her caravans were last seen. I don't want her going alone."

"I'll take care of… it."

Courier kept her back to him, hiding her smile.


	22. How Little We Know

**22: How Little We Know**

"What the hell is all this?" Shawn asked, stepping into the dining room to find maps and papers spread out over the long table. He had gone back to Vault 21 to visit some old friends while she said her farewells to John and Melina only to come back to a paperwork disaster.

"Me charting a course." She didn't look up from the map she was marking with a red pen.

He had noticed the change in her since she admitted to regaining the majority of her memories and every day it seemed to become more pronounced. She was no longer asking for opinions from them, or for information, apparently relying on herself and her recovered knowledge.

"Melina and Cena take off yet?"

"Not just yet… they're doing some investigating for me."

"Investigating what, honey?" He walked around the table to see what she was doing, running a finger down the trail she was marking. "Cottonwood Cove?"

"Yep. I'll take the I-95 back down and instead of turning towards Nipton, I'll go opposite past Camp Searchlight." She surveyed her route, nodding in satisfaction. "Now that I know where the hell I'm going, it won't take me very long."

"You're not going alone."

"I'm not taking anyone, Shawn." She fixed him with a stern gaze, having already made the decision that this was not a negotiable topic. "I am walking right into Caesar's nest, do you really think I'd take anyone with me?"

"Who the hell said you had a choice?"

"Shawn-" She sighed exasperatedly. "I'm not leaving this very instant, I've got other things to do first."

"What is it you have Cena and Melina doin'?" He asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"House wants me to take inventory of the Three Families."

Shawn was still having a hard time believing that Courier had actually met THE Robert House, the man was a total recluse; and apparently the oldest living person in… the world, as far as being pure human went. He had lived BEFORE the Great War. "What the hell for?"

"To determine if they're going to be a problem."

"A problem?"

"Don't ask Shawn, please? It's just… easier this way; that and I honestly don't have any fucking idea what that snarky son of a bitch is aiming for."

He stared at her for a long moment, seeing the indecision in her deep blue eyes, wondering just what it was she was doing, or being made to do. "Katy…"

She inhaled at the name he had given to her, turning when he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her back to his chest. "Shawn…" When he bent down to kiss the side of her throat, she smiled and tilted her head. "If this is your way of prying information from me… it might be working."

He chuckled.

**~!~**

"Damn, I'm almost afraid to walk in there." Melina said, surveying the beautifully polished marble floor of the Ultra-Luxe casino. They had been frisked upon their arrival and that had been demeaning enough, now she felt like a complete asshole.

At Courier's request, both she and John had forgone their usual clothes for formal wear. A dress for Melina that Courier had picked up somewhere and Shawn had procured a suit for John from one of the small shops.

John didn't feel any more comfortable than she did, though at least he didn't have to combat the urge to drink like a fish either. He felt bareassed naked without his rifle and beret. Courier owed him big time for this. His blue eyes roved over Melina, taking in her toned legs. There was a perk to this get-up…

"Stop eyeballin' me boy." She scowled, linking her arm through his. "Let's just do what we're here for and then get the hell outta here. These folks in the masks give me the creeps."

The creeps in masks as Melina had so eloquently put it were the White Glove Society members, former tribals who had also allegedly been cannibals. For former tribals, they dressed and acted very posh, and it was creepy.

John would never deny that.

**~!~**

"You're not actually goin' in there, are you?"

Courier looked at Shawn, doing a double take. "Are you… blushing?" She demanded, arching a black eyebrow as she glanced back at the Gomorrah, another casino on the Strip. Yeah, sure, there were… hookers out in front of it hollering and catcalling at anyone who walked by but… that wasn't enough to be getting all uptight.

Shawn squirmed defensively. "Do you know what kind of place this is?"

"A gambling and drinking place?"

"And a den of drugs and sex."

"Well… the sex part doesn't sound all that bad." She actually leered at him, mostly just to see that blush deepen. "I'm kidding. I'm not here for that."

"Then… what are we here for then?"

For some ungodly reason, she really liked how he always said 'we', even when she kept trying to tell him he didn't have to get involved in… whatever it was she had gotten her own damnself sucked into. No matter how many times she said it though, he always gave her a 'look' and told her he wasn't going anywhere except with her.

Which while that made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, also worried the fuck out of her because she knew some of the places she was bound to go to were not going to be… conducive to a long and happy lifespan.

"Just checking things out."

Shawn straightened his cowboy hat and nodded, lowering the brim when she smirked at him again, trying not to grin despite himself.

**~!~**

"Oh great… just great, she owes us for this!" Melina growled, staring down at the body of the White Glove Society member she and John were supposed to meet. They had been approached by a man in the casino who had introduced himself as Heck Gunderson, he had had a proposition for them, one that John had automatically said they should just walk away from.

Melina had agreed to it anyway, now blaming Courier for the impulse.

His son had gone missing and he wanted them to find the boy. John had point blank asked the man why he couldn't go do it himself only to be informed Heck was trying to negotiate a deal with the higher ups of the White Gloves regarding him being their exclusive supplier of Brahmin steak, a deal that apparently wasn't going all that well.

After asking around, Melina had been pointed in a hazy direction, arranged to meet some guy in the back of the spa… like that wasn't suspicious or anything.

"I'm not takin' the fall for this, no way."

John rolled his eyes, staring down at the guy they were supposed to meet –Chauncy-, and then glanced back towards the open door. Stepping back, he closed them before approaching the still somewhat warm body.

"What are you doing?" Melina demanded nervously, watching as John hefted the corpse over his shoulder.

He grunted by way of answer, heading towards the shower.

Darting around him, Melina quickly opened the door and stepped back, letting John deposit the body. "How much time will this buy us?" She asked quietly.

He shrugged, turning on the hot water. "Not much."

Rubbing her bare arms nervously, she looked around the room, her eyes landing on a stack of White Glove masks resting on top of a locker. "I'm going to venture a guess that whatever is going on, isn't exactly something Mr. House or Courier is going to approve of."

"Probably not." John had followed her gaze, arching an eyebrow. "No… Melina…"

"Well, we're going to have to blend in somehow."

Sighing, he took the mask she held out to him.

**~!~**

Shawn had been studying Courier the entire time they were inside the Gomorrah, beginning to get an idea that she had been here before. It wasn't helped when some balding creep in a suit gave her a wide eyed look and scurried right the fuck off. She seemed oblivious to it though, her eyes fastened straight ahead as she navigated the mazelike casino with ease.

"Aw hell…" Shawn groaned when she led the way out into an open courtyard. The only way into or out of the courtyard was through this archway, the other three walls compromising the actual casino itself. Open apartments were built into the walls, two stories of them, and he knew this was where the whores were housed.

"River! Oh my God!"

He turned in time to see a petite, red-headed woman in skimpy black lingerie come flying towards them.

Courier stumbled when the woman launched herself right into Courier's arms, staring down at her out of wide, alarmed eyes.

Coughing to clear his throat, Shawn rubbed the back of his neck. This was… awkward.

"God River… I was so afraid you weren't coming back…" The red-head sobbed, her face buried in Courier's neck. "But you promised… you always keep your promises…"

The look on Courier's face echoed Shawn's: What the fuck?


	23. Promotions and a Peace Treaty

**A/N & Whatnot**: JV, send me the challenge and I'll give it a look. Anyone interested in banners for This Is War, there are banners on chapters 2 and 20 at Disenchanted. Link in my profile.

**23: Promotion and a Peace Treaty**

**Mojave Desert, 2271: The Mojave Outpost**

"Look at them, Rivvie, all a bunch of scared kids…" Carlito shook his head with a snort, his unruly afro hair moving with the motion. "I can't believe we're doing this…"

"Me either." She leaned into him, smiling when he kissed the top of her head. "But Steve isn't doing this on a whim, I'm sure he's thought it all through."

"It kinda feels like we're selling our souls."

"Could be worse."

"It's the NCR…" He didn't bother hiding the disdain in his tone, smirking when one of the soldiers standing across from him took offense.

"You got a problem with us, Ranger?"

"Get your ass back in line, soldier boy." Letting go of her, Carly stepped forward, meeting the soldier step for step. "Don't you have to wait until someone tells you to move?"

"You Ranger piece of-"

"Back in line, soldier!"

The smirk turned into a sneer when the soldier reluctantly stepped back when his higher up bellowed at him.

"And you, Ranger with the fucked up hair-"

River moved to stand beside Carly, along with a few others from the sniper unit.

The man hesitated. "You fall back in place too, all of you…" The order was a bit flat.

"Last I checked… we're Rangers…" Carlito said slowly, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Which means we don't take orders from some NCR idiot."

"But you do take orders from me, Colon. Git your ass BACK in line." Steve had appeared, looking extremely pissed off. "All of ya! Brooks!"

"Sir?"

"Keep control of your men or you'll find yourself demoted, understand me girl?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" River turned to stare at the five men assembled before her. "You heard the man, get your asses back in line and stop provoking the children!"

They all stepped back, forming rank, all grinning wickedly.

Steve tried not to smirk, knowing things were going to have to change. Things were going to be a hell of a lot different now that he was fixing to sign a peace treaty with the New California Republic, merging his own Desert Rangers with the NCR Rangers.

This was a last resort, one he hadn't wanted to turn to, was aligning himself with them. On one hand, the NCR did good things: such as protecting the territories they acquired. The really shitty thing was: they usually took those territories by coercion, if not outright force. As far as he was concerned, they were no better than the Legion or the Enclave, doing nothing but furthering their own damn agenda.

He didn't want his Rangers involved in that, but with the Legion now waging war on the entire Mojave –where they had fallen back to once Trish had ceded New Reno to the NCR in order to have their aid in subduing the inter-city fighting that had been raging between two warring families. His wife was the political thinker; he was more a man of gut instinct.

And his gut did not like the NC-fucking-R.

"Brooks, take a walk with me."

Nodding, River glanced back at her unit. "Colon, make sure you keep them in line, and yourself."

He winked at her.

Shaking her head, she fell into step alongside Steve, following him towards the gates that led towards the Mojave. Once just outside of them, he stopped and folded his hands behind his back. She just waited patiently.

"We're going to be assimilated, Brooks." Steve said flatly. "We'll be Rangers, but we'll be NCR Rangers."

"Sir?"

"Technically, we won't be NCR soldiers, but we will work with them, under the NCR flag."

Her nose wrinkled in distaste.

Steve looked down at her, his own expression mirroring hers. "I know how you feel. This goes against everything we stand for."

Which was freedom.

The Desert Rangers might've staked their territory, but they didn't withhold their services to those in need unless those in needed ceded to them, unlike the NCR. They had a live and let live policy, with exception to the Enclave and the Legion, mainly because the Enclave would wipe out mass settlements due to the humans not being 'pure' humans and the Legion… well, anyone who didn't fight the Legion was pretty much a soulless bastard.

"But we're losing this war, River. We beat back the Enclave," He paused to enjoy that memory, his eyes closing as a smile flickered across his face. "but all we've done is hold off the Legion. They're bigger than any of us, even the NCR, and they keep on growing. We can't do this alone."

"So the NCR is the lesser of two evils."

"Yeah, mostly."

"Why are you telling me all this, Sir?"

"Because I've decided that I'm retiring."

Her mouth dropped.

He reached out to push her chin back in place. "River, I'm not gettin' around like I used too." He gestured to his knee, which he still wore a brace for. "I'm slowin' down and quite frankly, I'm too damn old school to be trying to fit in with these pukes from California. Trish and I were thinking of heading East, providin' we can find a route around the Legion."

"What's in the East?"

"Who the hell knows? But I know what's here and I'm not all that happy with it. Point is, I'm retirin'."

"When?"

"I'll finish out the assimilation, and probably stay a few months after to make sure everything is… going alright. Then I'll step down."

River inhaled deeply, nodding.

"I'm telling you all this, River, because I have already talked this over with my…" Steve searched for the word. "With the NCR Rangers who are my rank, I guess my co-leader, and I've informed him of my decision. I also informed him that the only way I'm signing this piece of paper is if I can name my replacement, who has to be someone from the original Desert Rangers."

She nodded again.

"That someone is going to be you."

River's jaw dropped again.

**~!~**

"Let me get this straight, Steve's retiring and leaving you in charge of the Rangers?"

"In charge of OUR Rangers." River corrected, watching as Carly undressed for bed. A perk to being squad leader was that she no longer had to live in the barracks, double perk as not only the Desert Rangers occupied the barracks but also the NCR Rangers. Downside… her room was adjacent to the barracks, and she did have to go through them to get to her room, which meant a lot of heckling from the guys, especially since she and Carly had come out with their relationship.

Tossing his tee shirt aside, he slipped under the sheets with her, raising an arm so she could snuggle against him, smiling when he felt her head resting on his chest. "Let's hear it, Rivvie."

"I can't lead the Rangers, Carly. What the hell is he thinking?"

"Hmm… you're absolutely brilliant for one. With a gun, in the mind… in bed…"

"Carly!"

Laughing, he rolled so she was laying on her back, hovering over her. "River, you might be the youngest of us, and only a woman-" he caught her hand when she tried to slap him, kissing her palm, his brown eyes twinkling. "but you are also the best. Not that I'll ever admit it outside of this room."

"Hmmm… Good recovery."

"You can do this," he whispered, all seriousness now. "and I'll be with you, every step of the way."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

**~!~**

Signing the treaty was the hardest thing Steve had ever done. He was virtually admitting that his Desert Rangers, he, could not get the job done. It was true, but to admit it… was a crushing blow. He felt Trish's hand on his shoulder almost as soon as he had finished signing the treaty and shaking hands with his NCR Ranger counter-part, turning to look down at her.

She offered him a sad smile.

While the NCR official began his speech about this 'historic' day, he took his wife's hand and started walking away from the hastily constructed stage, hearing something about a statue to commemorate this moment and his frown deepened.

"Everything changes, Steve." Trish said softly, squeezing his hand. "Even us."

He didn't say anything.

"Maybe this will be a new, brighter era for the Desert Rangers. We're not giving up our beliefs, look at this as spreading them. Maybe we'll even have an impact, an influence, on the NCR. They're not all bad."

"The ones in control are."

"Not all of them."

Steve glanced back, his eyes fastening on his Rangers. He took in the different units. To everyone else, all the Rangers probably looked the same, they all wore the same uniform, and none of them wore any markings to indicate which troop they belonged too. But he could tell you the name of every one of his Rangers, which unit they were in, and how long they had been under his command. He could also recite the names and unit of every Ranger who had died under his command.

Brooks stood with her sniper unit, her eyes fastened on the speaker, and he could see even from a distance the pinched look to her face, knowing she was probably not finding the speech to her liking. She reminded him of him, which in his eyes made her the perfect candidate.

He just hoped her command would be easier than his had been.


	24. Keeping A Promise

**24: Keeping A Promise**

Courier and Shawn were both staring at the red-headed prostitute. She had introduced herself to Shawn, saying her name was Maria, and hadn't stopped clinging to Courier the entire time. Then she had brought them to her little apartment in the courtyard, which had been up the stone stairs and in a far corner.

Maria had then launched into a bunch of diatribe neither could make much sense of, or at least Shawn couldn't. He had no idea what Courier was thinking, she hadn't said anything so far, and her face was expressionless. He really wished he knew what she was thinking right now, he was unsure of what he was thinking, other than the obvious: this is all shades of messed up.

The room they were in clearly was meant to be a room of 'pleasure', with the large bed covered in what had to be the most extravagant blanket he had ever seen. There was a wardrobe that was missing its doors, revealing a several more pieces of the skimpy lingerie like the one she was currently wearing.

Shawn had started studying Maria in earnest when Courier finally decided to speak up.

"You're going to have to be patient with me Maria," She said slowly, staring intently at the smaller woman. "I'm getting forgetful in my old age."

"You're like what? Thirty something?" Maria scoffed, dropping down on the edge of the bed and crossing one leg over the other, revealing a flash of what she wasn't wearing beneath her lingerie, causing both Courier and Shawn to avert their eyes. "You're not old. What happened to your face?"

"I was shot, in the head."

Maria's eyes widened.

"And because of that, I lost my memories."

"So… so you don't remember me?" Maria's eyes were now filling with tears.

Courier actually smiled; and it was a wolfish smile. "How could I forget someone as delicious as you?"

Shawn arched an eyebrow. Just how many ex-lovers of hers were they going to come across?

All smiles again, Maria patted the space on the bed beside her. "You've been gone longer than usual, River, I was beginning to think you weren't coming back this time."

Sitting down, Courier smiled slightly. "If it weren't for the good doctor here, I probably wouldn't have." She gestured to Shawn.

"Well it's a good thing you were there then, doc. River has a lot of work ahead of her, especially now that I've got the information!" Maria glanced towards the door, as if she was expecting someone to come bursting through at any moment.

"You're an addict." Shawn said out of the blue. While Courier and Maria had been talking, he had been listening as well examining Maria. More specifically, he had been examining Maria's eyes and her body language. She was fidgeting, which would have told him she was nervous or lying if not for the bloodshot eyes and the way she kept rubbing her inner arm.

Courier grabbed the arm Maria was touching and turned the limb, frowning. "What the fuck, Maria?"

Snatching her arm away, Maria got off the bed and walked away from them, bowing her head so that her vivid red hair covered her shoulders and face. "It's not what you think. I'm not… I'm not an addict because I want to be. It's because of Cachino."

"Cachino…" Courier frowned, her forehead wrinkling as she tried to think of why that name sounded so familiar and why it left such a bad taste in her mouth.

"Cachino is the weasel who won't leave me alone." Maria said bitterly. "He's one of the minor bosses in the Gomorrah, he only wishes he was like Big Sal or Nero and in charge. He was alright for a while, after the last time you were here. He was fine, whatever you said to him worked. For a little bit."

Suddenly Courier remembered. A short, balding man with mean eyes and a greedy mouth, a man who had constantly been bothering Maria and allowed to get away with it because he was management in the Gomorrah, an underling to the two big bosses.

**New Vegas, Gomorrah: January 2281 -7 months before Goodsprings.**

"_Goddamn it Maria… why didn't you tell me sooner what was going on?" River demanded, staring at her current lover out of angry eyes._

_Maria frowned, rolling over so her face was buried in the pillow of her bed. They had been having such a nice day… Maria had prepared a little surprise for River's thirtieth birthday and that had gone over quite well. At least until Cachino had shown up. He had been his usual, drunk and high, jackass self. When he realized Maria was 'entertaining', he had demanded to see the caps, not about to let 'no dyke' have a free round because they did not hand out freebies at the Gomorrah. River had coldly produced the money, which Cachino had pocketed, and then pointedly told him where to go._

_He had smacked Maria on his way out the door._

_River had blown up when Maria finally explained just what the hell was going on._

"_Maria, don't do that. Sit up like an adult." River ordered in cold tones, really despising it when the diminutive woman began acting like a child. She had met Maria two years ago when she had come in from the Mojave, tired of wandering, tired of dwelling on the past, and just plain out tired. She had been in the mood for liquor and someone to keep her warm for a while. A whore had definitely been in order, someone she wouldn't have to worry about forming an attachment too. _

_Which hadn't happened. Maria had for some ungodly reason, decided to take more than just a professional interest in her. She had been the warm body River had wanted, and then eventually the source of comfort River had needed._

_Now, after two years, River had formed an attachment with Maria. She didn't love Maria, but she cared about her and she made sure that Maria knew it, not about to inadvertently or purposefully lead the woman on. She had made no promises she couldn't keep and because Maria was accepting of that, River never hesitated to come back._

_Without Maria, River would have probably died from grief or gone insane. Now someone was hurting Maria and given everything she owed the woman –such as her sanity and possibly life- that shit wasn't going to fly._

_Hiccupping, Maria slowly sat up and shifted so she was facing River, not actually looking at her though. "Don't yell at me." She ordered, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing her make-up. "It's not like I asked for this River, you know I didn't."_

_Cachino the swine, had apparently taken quite the liking to Maria. He had been making frequent visits to her apartment inside the Gomorrah's courtyard. At first Maria had serviced him just to get him the fuck away from her as quickly as possible, she was a Gomorrah whore, and it wasn't like she could tell him no. Though when he started coming to her all fucked up on chems, she did put her foot down. Only to wind up getting the stuffing knocked out of her and raped._

_After that, Cachino began drugging her, getting her hooked on chems, mostly because she was less likely to fight him once she was high. For some reason, he was obsessed with her and it made no sense to her because there was other, more willing, more attractive whores in the courtyard._

_When Maria began crying again, River's cold blue eyes turned to ice._

_**~!~**_

_Cachino had no idea he was being stalked as he let himself into his hotel suite, grumbling under his breath. Big Sal and Nero lived like fucking kings in their penthouse while he rotted down here on the third floor, what a crock of shit. "One of these days…" He muttered, closing the door behind him._

_When he didn't hear it slam shut, he whirled around, his dark brown eyes widening at the sight of a tall woman in a skintight, thigh high jumper. Letting out a low whistle, he lowered his gaze to her booted feet, slowly working his way up her black tight covered legs, a hint of tanned thigh showing where the nylon ended until the jumper began. Thick black hair was pulled tightly back from her face in a severe hairstyle, giving her an overall stern look._

_At least until she smiled, baring a lot of teeth at him. Now she looked murderous._

"_What the fuck do you want?" He demanded, watching as she quietly shut the door behind him, reaching for the gun he kept tucked in the back of his pants._

"_I want to talk to you about Maria."_

"_What about her?" Just as Cachino was drawing his hand back, with his 9mm, the woman rushed him. Surprised, he could only watch as she drew near, suddenly feeling his feet flying out from underneath him. Seconds later his back was on the floor, he was out of breath, and she was sitting on his chest, holding his gun in her hand, aiming it at his mouth. "What? What? What?" He whimpered, staring at her pleadingly. "What do you want?"_

"_I want you to stay the fuck away from Maria."_

"_She's a whore! And-" Cachino's eyes crossed as the gun was pressed to the thin flesh between the bottom of his nose and his upper lip, risking a glance back at her. He really took a good look. "You're the dyke who rented her!"_

"_That's right. I'm also the dyke with your gun aimed your face." She replied with a hint of a sneer. "I'm also a Ranger and I know dozens of way to kill you slowly and very painfully."_

"_You think you can get past…" The words died on his lips when he realized she had gotten past the guards. This floor wasn't accessible to anyone but the Omertas and somehow, she had managed to sneak past the pair of guards they kept stationed at every floor entrance._

_By the cruelly amused smile on her face, he was assuming she had apparently cottoned on to what he had been thinking._

"_If you ever touch her again, dose her up again… if you even fucking look at her funny… I will come back and I will kill you." She informed him, running the gun along his upper lip in a caressing fashion. "Do you understand me?"_

_He nodded._

"_Now…" She between twisting the end of the gun barrel, working it between his clenched lips. "Open your mouth."_

_He whimpered, shaking his head no._

"_Fucking open your mouth or I'll change my mind about not splattering your brains on this carpet."_

_Feeling tears beginning to seep from his eyes, Cachino parted his lips. He tasted metal and something else, letting out a muffled groan of pain and surprise when she violently rammed the barrel past his reluctantly opening lips. After a moment, he realized what she was doing and began to actually cry._

"_How does it feel?" She taunted, not stopping the assault of his mouth, smirking when he let out a squeal, hoping she had just knocked out a tooth or something. "Being raped is great fun, isn't it? I figure I'll do one better than you do to Maria though… I'm going to fuck your mouth with this gun, and you best hope my finger don't slip on the trigger."_

Courier shook her head to clear out the memories, wondering just what the fuck Cachino was thinking. Apparently her long absence had made him think he was in the clear. She was back; and that shit wasn't going to fly. Standing up, she bent down to kiss the top of Maria's head before glancing at Shawn who nodded. "We'll be back."

"Where are you going?" Maria sniffled, looking at them from wide, panicky eyes.

"To handle business. Get packed."

Uncertain, Maria just stayed where she was, staring intently at the other woman. When she seen the absolute seriousness in Courier's eyes, she nodded, getting up. "Alright."

Smiling humorlessly, Courier led the way out of the apartment.


	25. A Cold River

**25: A Cold River**

"This was the day from Hell, Courier, you have no idea." Melina said with a sigh as she relaxed in the extremely large bath tub in the master suite. Courier and Shawn hadn't been there when she and John had gotten back so she had taken advantage. Then when Courier had strolled in not ten minutes later, she hadn't bothered with being abashed, just enjoyed her bath.

Courier was sitting on the toilet seat, watching Melina curiously. The tub was huge. She had noticed it almost right away, she had never seen a bathroom that was completely intact, or so damn clean. She had yet to give the tub a go, she'd been busy, but she didn't begrudge Melina the bath. "What do you mean?"

Melina was examining the various bottles of stuff lining the glass shelves that rested just within arm's reach on the wall. "What the hell is this?"

Reaching out, Courier took the bottle and read it. "Shampoo? It says you wash your hair with it."

"So… it's like soap then?"

"I guess."

Hesitantly, Melina opened the cap and cautiously sniffed the inside. "It smells alright."

"Well, give it a try."

Melina poured some into her hand and eyeballed it. "If my hair falls out…"

"I think you need to wet your hair first."

Rolling her eyes, Melina dunked herself under the water. When she surfaced, she began lathering the shampoo into her hair. "Anyways, we checked out the White Glove Society, like you asked."

"And?"

"And they're a bunch of freaky motherfuckers. They're cannibals."

Courier somehow wasn't surprised by this news. There had been rumors of that before she had been shot in Goodsprings. "What happened?"

"Well, we got in and found out a merchant's son had gone missing. Being the idiots we are, we got involved. Turns out, he had been wandering the hotel and some of the Gloves got hold of him. They were planning on barbecuing his ass and serving him up as dinner."

Courier was now staring at the foam that was Melina's head curiously.

"Not all of them are cannibals, but some apparently miss the good old days when it was alright to use someone's arm as a snack food." Melina sounded disgusted, ducking her head back underwater in order to rinse it out. "We were going to talk to this kid who was a member, but they got to him first. Killed the poor bastard and tried to set us up in the process. We managed to sidestep that, find the merchant's boy, and get him the hell out of there. Without raising an alarm or causing any scenes."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. What do you plan on doing about it? Because you sure as hell can't let this go."

Courier wasn't sure if it was even her place to do anything about it. All House had done was ask her to check in on the Families. Yes Man had told her to decide if any of them were people she wanted to keep around New Vegas. She definitely did not want a group of cannibals running around snatching up people for food, but New Vegas was not her territory. She didn't have territory, she just had a damn suite in a casino nobody was allowed inside of.

"Courier?"

"I don't know yet Melina."

"So how'd your day go?"

"Fine. Beat the shit out of a slimeball and discovered that some of the Omertas are working with the Legion."

"That's ni- WHAT?"

"Yeah, that's kinda what I thought."

**~!~**

The trip to Cottonwood Cove was delayed, several times. Mostly because Courier wasn't ready to leave the security of the Lucky 38 or Shawn. Hell, she was even enjoying being around Melina and John now that they weren't on the road and generally fighting off one thing or another. Melina did tend to get antsy from being cooped up so much, and when she did, John usually accompanied her outside of the Strip and into Freeside where she could get a breath of fresh air, have a drink in a grimy establishment, and do her thing.

Shawn lingered with her most of the time, occasionally making a trip to Vault 21. Courier had gone with him once, to escort Maria there to join a man she said she knew. Shawn had confirmed the man was 'good people' and that was enough for Courier.

She had… 'talked' Cachino into releasing Maria. Well actually, she had broken into his room –again- and when he wasn't there, snooped around. Cachino, interestingly enough, kept a diary. There had been a lot of interesting things in that diary; and a lot of things that pissed her off. He had detailed his numerous 'visits' with Maria as well as described the activities he was involved in, behind his bosses backs.

With that information, she and Shawn had waited for him to show up. When he did, it had been… interesting. Cachino had fully expected to die, and Courier had had every intention of giving him death, at least until he had started offering up deals and more information.

As much as making a deal with the piece of shit had grated her nerves, she had done it. Maria went free with the promise to never be bothered by any Omerta or their thugs again, and Cachino would also supply Courier with information concerning his bosses, who apparently were secretly working with Caesar's Legion. In return for these things, Courier had to let the swine live.

So she did.

For now.

She also spent a bit of time with Mr. House, who was agitated with her lack of action, but she refused to do anything else for the man –and it was hard to call a computer monitor that could crush you a man- without knowing his eventual goals.

House was a jackass in her opinion. He refused to meet or speak with any of her companions, expressing no interest in them at all. He also had no interest in anything outside the Strip. New Vegas had been his home before the Great War; and as a child he had apparently fallen in love with the neon city. His goals seemed to be 1) living forever and 2) doing so in New Vegas. He ruled New Vegas and had no intention of ceding it to the NCR, or full control of the Hoover Dam.

On the NCR account, she couldn't blame him. While the idea of the NCR was a good one, the actual truth was shitty. They kept trying to expand and acquire new resources and if they couldn't get the resources by peace, they generally tried taking it. Which hadn't worked out so well in the case of New Vegas. There was too much political trafficking going on with the NCR for them to actually be effective.

Which was nothing unusual.

**Hoover Damn: 2275**

_At twenty-four years of age, River was the youngest Ranger to take command. Well… joint command. Her Rangers were still the original Desert Rangers and then her NCR counter-part controlled the NCR Rangers. Currently they were stationed at the Dam while the NCR Rangers enjoyed their 'leave' in New Vegas._

_New Vegas… she snorted. _

"_What the hell was that for?"_

_She glanced to her right, where her husband of one year was, walking alongside her. "I was just thinking."_

"_Obviously. What about?" Carly threaded his hand in hers, squeezing gently when she just shrugged. "I know you hate this assignment but just think, when those NCR fucks get back, it's our turn for leave. We can go anywhere you want, baby."_

"_Even home?"_

_He knew home not to mean the little NCR shack they had been given as a wedding present on the outskirts of Camp McArran but back to their old Ranger base in the badlands. "Rivvie, you know… you know that's impossible. Hell, the Legion has probably taken over." He didn't like thinking of the Legion living in their old base, frowning at the thought. From the look on her face, he could tell she didn't either. Letting out a soft sigh, Carlito pulled her into his arms, ignoring the looks the regular NCR soldiers who were posted at regular intervals on the Dam walls were giving them. "This isn't forever."_

"_I know." She whispered._

_**~!~**_

"_So you married that idiot with the bad hair?"_

_River whirled around, gun up, her heart pounding in her chest furiously. She hadn't heard that voice in years, not since before the signing of the Treaty. _

_Standing before her was 'Taker, looking almost like he had on that day he had informed her they had no future together. He was also aiming a gun directly at her, his green eyes flashing venomously._

"_And you're now with the NCR…" He drawled coldly. "How come I'm not surprised?"_

_She flinched at the sheer hatred in his tone, knowing better than to even think about lowering her rifle for even a second. "Why are you here?" She demanded, pleased to hear how steady her own voice was, having expected it to come out quavering. "Still following the Enclave or just checking up on me?"_

"_The Enclave is finished." He spat. "You fucking Rangers seen to that."_

"_So this is a social visit, how nice. You came, you saw me, now get the hell out of here before I have to shoot you. You're trespassing on NCR territory." How he managed to get this close to the Dam without being spotted was just a testament to his skills, and the fact that there would be heads rolling when she discovered who was all on patrol today._

_His answer was to bring his foot up, kicking her right in the wrist._

_River let out a groan of pain from her now clenched teeth, pretty certain she had felt something snap. The kick forced her to drop her gun, though she quickly began backing away, reaching for the 10mm she kept at her waist with her good hand. When he reached out for her, she planted the barrel directly against the palm of his hand and pulled the trigger._

"_YOU BITCH!" He roared, stumbling away and clenching his bleeding hand. He had been damn lucky that bullet hadn't clipped his head when it went through his hand, which now had a fucking hole clean through it._

_River didn't waste any time in talking. Instead she lashed out with a kick of her own, aiming directly for his chest. She watched as 'Taker stumbled backwards, surprise all over his face. Given where they were standing, him going backwards wasn't all that a good thing, for him._

"_You wouldn't…" He breathed, sparing a glance behind him, not too keen on the idea of going flying over the edge of this ridge and down into the Colorado River. "River…"_

_She kicked him again._

_He toppled._

_River stepped up to the edge of the ridge in order to watch him fall. She was half expecting to see him clinging there; and tears pricked her eyes when she seen his body hit the water below. He had told her before they had no future together; and then left._

_If he had just stayed away, he might have had a future, even if it had been one without her._


	26. The First Battle of Hoover Dam

**26: The First Battle of Hoover Dam**

"I want you to meet someone."

Yawning, Courier rolled over so she could look at Shawn, not surprised at all to find him looking bright eyed and bushy tailed. "What?"

Smiling, Shawn reached out to push her snarled hair away from her face. He had been up for a while now but hadn't moved from the bed because he knew it would wake her. When he had seen her beginning to stir, he had spoken, knowing she was waking. "I want to take you to Freeside."

"How romantic." She murmured, rolling her eyes before closing them. "What for?"

"I want to go to the Old Mormon Fort, there's someone there I want to introduce you too."

"Mormon Fort…" She sounded like she was considering it, not opening her eyes. "That a base of the Followers of the Apocalypse."

"You know of them?"

"Vaguely."

"You really did get all your memories back."

"Mmhmm…"

Rolling so he was laying on top of her, he peered down at her. "So that mean I can expect to meet anymore of your previous lovers?"

Courier's blue eyes opened slowly, glittering wickedly as she stared at him. "Possibly, why? Feeling a little jealous?"

"More like nervous. First 'Taker, then that red-headed gal, you have some varying tastes, Katy." Shawn said seriously, settling himself comfortably on her without actually crushing her. "So… what can I expect next?"

"A midget."

Somehow that wouldn't have surprised him but Shawn knew better than to even consider voicing it. "Seriously."

"Seriously? Well, outside of you, I've only been with three other people. Maria, 'Taker, and…" A pained expression crossed her face. "Carlito."

From the look on her face and the tone of voice she said that name in, he was gathering this Carlito was or had been someone special to her. "Carlito?"

She nodded, pushing at his bare chest gently until he moved off of her and then sat up, leaning back against the headboard. Frowning slightly, she pulled the sheet up around herself, finally looking at him again. "Carlito was my husband."

At first Shawn wanted to repeat that, but the more rational portion of his mind had caught the 'was', which was past tense. "Was?"

"We were both Desert Rangers, we basically grew up together. When the Desert Rangers signed the treaty with the NCR back in2271, we were both with the sniper unit. I was squad leader and he was just my boyfriend. Once the treaty was signed, I was promoted to command of the original Desert Rangers, co-command if you want to be technical, I had an NCR counterpart for the NCR Rangers."

His eyes were widening by the minute. "How old are you?"

"Thirty."

Shawn's head was reeling. Sitting back on his calves, he could only stare at her, doing the mental math. "You were twenty when you took command?"

She nodded.

"How long were you…."

"I stepped down from my post 2277, I was twenty-six."

"2277… That was the year of the battle at Hoover Dam."

She flinched.

"You were there, weren't you?"

Courier let out a shaky breath. "I was there. It was afterwards when I stepped down."

"Was your husband there with you?"

"That's where he died."

**The First Battle of the Hoover Dam: 2277**

"_Goddamn it, FALL BACK!" River ordered, wiping blood out of her eyes as she watched the Legion literally swarming over the Dam. This was suicide, the NC-fucking-R hadn't been prepared at all for this attack; and they should have been. "Snipers, retreat high!" She bellowed, shooting a look at Carlito –her husband as well as the sniper squad unit leader. "Pick them off!"_

_Nodding, Carlito motioned for his unit to follow him, quickly picking a path out of the mayhem._

_Cursing like a sailor, River began shouting more orders. "Back to Boulder!" _

_Seeing her Rangers retreating like this broke her heart, knowing this all could have prevented if the idiots in charge had allocated more soldiers for the Dam instead of the fucking Strip where they weren't actually needed._

_Falling back to Boulder wasn't just her saving asses, it was also tactical. Earlier in the week, the entire NCR Ranger division (Desert included) had booby trapped the town just in case. Given the location of Boulder, being right next to the Dam, was not a place they wanted to just hand over to the Legion. Not that they wanted to hand over the Dam either._

_She knew damn well Caesar wouldn't show his face, not here, not with this battle, but his Legate was definitely here. She had seen him from a distance; and found herself wondering if he was truly as fearsome on the battle field as rumored. _

_Once she was sure all the Rangers in her charge had done as told and retreated, she followed suit, glad she had remembered to stuff plugs in her ears because without them she would have gone permanently deaf by now. As it was, even with them, she would definitely go a few days afterwards without being able to hear a thing. _

_Something whizzed by her face and she spun around in time to see a Legionary toppling, letting out a grateful prayer. Thank God for her snipers. Knowing their retreat was being covered, she began to really haul ass._

"_Brooks, they're following!" Shouted her co-chief, falling into a jog beside her as she passed what marked the fallback line. "We have to prepare to detonate."_

"_I want all the men evacuated first, except the team."_

_Nodding, Chris took off running away from her, a messenger trailing after him. When she had first met Chris she had really found him annoying, he was cocky and arrogant. But he was also good at his job. So was she. Once they had gotten past their initial differences (he was truly NCR, she was Desert) they had found they worked well together, so long as they kept to their respective units. They would never be drinking buddies, but they had an understanding._

_Knowing the snipers would be joining them, she sent her Rangers on ahead, west of Boulder City towards the barricades, the 'safe' zone. She headed into Boulder, feeling like she was walking into a death trap, which she was. All week long they had been working with the explosions team to rig Boulder City with dynamite and land mines. From the ridges where the snipers were coming in from all the way throughout the city, it was ready to go. They had evacuated all citizens, sending them towards Camp McArran to refugee. _

"_How long?" She shouted as she threw herself down by Lt. Dumas who was finishing with the fuse, making herself heard over the fighting that was now coming their way as well as the sounds of hundreds of boots pounding towards the barricades._

"_As soon as the rest of the Rangers clear, we'll just be waiting on the Legion." Amy's red head was coming undone from the braid she normally wore it in, her eyes squinted with concentration. "We're going to have a minute, give or take a few seconds, to get to the clear zone, Chief."_

"_Brilliant."_

"_River, they're coming!"_

_Frowning at the use of her name, River spun around on her heels, pitching her hands forward to steady herself when she seen Carlito hopping towards her on one leg, being supported on either side by Rangers. It took her a moment to realize that the bottom of his knee, where his left leg should have been, had been hastily wrapped and blood was streaming through the coarse wrapping at an alarming rate. _

"_Legion soldier took off his leg with one of those damn swords they use…"_

_Ignoring the danger, she darted forward in order to help bring him behind Dumas' slab of protective concrete. "Carly… God…" She ran her hands through his sweat slicked, limp looking fro, noting that his face was a chalky white contrast his usual healthy brown tones. "No… not you too…" She had lost Phil, they had lost Evan, even Steve though at least as far as they knew he was still alive and somewhere with his wife. She had murdered 'Taker a month ago and now she was about to watch her husband die. "SOMEONE GET ME A FUCKING FLAMER!" She screamed, not believing these idiots were just standing there and watching this. "This needs cauterized!"_

_Carlito would have gone in shock by now if not for the fact that one of the boys had given an illegal but still widely used drug. As it was, he could feel the pain but… it was bearable, helped along by the knowledge he was dying and going numb. Blackness was starting to eat away at vision though it cleared when he felt her beginning to tie a cord just over his knee, his stump. "No… no…" He reached out, resting his hands on hers. "River, no."_

_Ignoring him, she tightened it as much as she could and let out a shaky sigh when she seen the blood flow lessening, knowing for now it would have to do. "We'll get you to the medics, some blood packs and Stimpaks…" She looked into his face and seen him shaking his head. "I can't lose you too, Carly." She said quietly, evenly._

"_Chief," Amy interrupted nervously, watching as the Legion horde came into her line of sight. "Under three minutes before they pass optimal blasting point. We have to go."_

"_Go." River ordered, looking at the three Rangers still assembled, scowling when they all looked nervously at each other. "GO! That is a fucking order!"_

_When they still hesitated, she pulled out her pistol. "If you do not listen to me, I will shoot each and every one of you." She informed them, meaning every word she said._

_Swallowing hard, Amy nodded and gestured for her comrades to follow her, stopping long enough to turn and toss River a lighter. "You have one minute, thirty seconds to light it and another minute to get out of here, Chief." She said flatly._

"_Thank you, now go."_

"_Goddamn you, as your husband, I am telling YOU to go." Carlito ordered, reaching out to feebly snatch the lighter from her._

_Shaking her head, River crouched down beside him, easing an arm around him to support him, glancing down at his legs… leg and stump, which were sprawled on the concrete. "I'm not leaving you."_

"_Rivvie, I've lost too much blood; and I'd never make it out of here, even with your help." _

_She looked up; she could see the faces of the Legion soldiers who were running towards them. Gritting her teeth, she tightened her grip on him and began hauling him upright._

"_No! Let me light it and run, damn it River!" Tears were streaming down his dirty, blood stained face. "Please, don't throw your life away, please Riv!"_

_She was clenching the fuse between her teeth, eyes narrowed._

_Carlito groaned, letting out a string of curses when she lit it, knowing the countdown was now on. For him, the clock had stopped, now she was racing it. "GODDAMN YOU WOMAN, LISTEN TO ME!" He screamed angrily when he felt her beginning to lift him over her shoulder._

_Grunting, River began channeling strength she knew she would never had been able to access without adrenaline as well as the desperate fear to get him out of there; and she somehow got him over her shoulder's adjusting him as gently as she could. _

_~!~_

_Not a lot of things rattled Chris Irvine, but seeing the first blasts as well as feeling them rumbling the ground beneath his feet rattled him both figuratively and literally. Flames, bodies, dust, smoke, and rubble began littering the air and he could hear the NCR soldiers as well as Rangers all cheering as screams of terror from the Legion reached them._

"_Sir, Chief!"_

_He glanced over his shoulder, frowning when he seen Lt. Dumas –a soldier, not a Ranger-, standing behind him with, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. "Yes?"_

"_Chief Brooks lit the fuse."_

_His mouth dropped. "What?"_

_She hastily explained the situation._

_Chris sighed, feeling a weight settling on his shoulders, knowing damn well River was probably dead in there alongside her husband. He finally patted Dumas on the arm, awkwardly. "You did the right thing, following her orders." He said, his blue eyes showing her she wasn't in any trouble._

_Nodding, she fell back._

_He resumed staring at the ongoing destruction, frowning when he seen a very bulky, tottering person come stumbling out of the flames and smoke. "Brooks…" He took off running, aware her personal Rangers were keeping pace, some surpassing him._

_It seemed like hours to get her and Carlito back behind the line, she had dropped before they reached her, Carlito crashing down on top of her. They somehow managed to avoid getting crushed –though there were some minor injuries- from the chunks of concrete that were flying from the blast zones._

"_Brooks, wake up." Chris slapped her face gently on each cheek after getting them to safety and on the softest patch of dirt they could find. "Come on, get up."_

"_Hit me again Irvine, and die." She growled hoarsely, not opening her eyes. She was quiet for a long time, the only indication she was alive was the rise and fall of her chest. "Carly?"_

_He looked over his shoulder and bit his lip when a medic shook her head at him, glancing down at her. "Carly didn't… he didn't make it, River."_

_She nodded once before turning her head to the side, away from him. _

_He got up and walked away from her, wincing when he heard muffled sobs from behind. "I want every unit to be ready in two minutes to begin sweeping Boulder. Any member of the Legion you find that might still be alive, kill." His eyes flickered between his Ranger's and River's, knowing she was in no condition to lead them at the moment, even if she had wanted too. He could hear the NCR soldiers marching back towards the Dam to finish off whatever was going on there, they had won._

_For now._


	27. You Don't Want to Know

**27: You Don't Want to Know**

With her memories back, River recognized the Mormon Fort this time around. She didn't recall being on any familiar terms with the Members of the Apocalypse but… when she had left the NCR and wandered into Freeside, she hadn't gone out of her way to make friends with anyone. She had simply ambled through, killed the thugs who were stupid enough to get in her way, went into Vegas to go to the Embassy and collect her final wages. Then she had promptly blown it all at the Gomorrah on liquor and Maria.

She let Shawn lead the way since he apparently knew where he was going, just trailing behind. On the walk through Freeside, she had noticed skirmishes between the few NCR soldiers they had seen and the residents of Freeside, wondering just what the hell that was all about. Granted, she was no big fan of the NCR but generally people weren't outright hostile to them, unless of course they were a part of a different faction, which was a whole new can of worms.

When they were inside the Fort, Courier realized why Shawn knew these people; they were surrounded by what looked like doctors, and some guards. There were tents erected in neat rows, and when she peered through an open flap, she seen people lying on mattresses, patients.

"Let's see…" Shawn looked around beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, nodding at a woman with a large, taped glasses and a brown mohawk. "That's Julie Farkas, she's the head honcho around here, and she's good people."

"She the one we're here to see?"

"Nope. While she's a good girl, she's also… not… well, she's a busy woman."

Courier didn't even bother trying to sort that out. Instead she followed Shawn through the yard towards a solitary man in what seemed to be the standard dirty white 'doctor' coat. As they approached, she took in the faded cargo pants he wore and a plain shirt, his dirty blond hair pulled back into a knot at the base of his neck. When he turned towards them, her first thought was that he was actually fairly handsome and her second was that this man had issues.

"Jeff." Shawn extended his hand.

Hesitantly, the doctor reached out to shake, his eyes locked on her. "Shawn. Who's your friend?"

"This is Katy."

She was going to have to smack him for that.

Jeff regarded her thoughtfully, reaching up to brush a flyaway strand of hair back from his face. "Pleasure to meet you, Katy." He didn't sound all that pleased, his eyes were roaming her again, taking in her standard outfit of leather armor and guns visible. "Merc?"

"No, she's with me." Shawn was still smiling, even though his acquaintance looked less than pleased to see him. "We're just passing through."

"In town for supplies?"

"Yeah, sent them to Goodsprings with a caravan."

Jeff looked surprised at that. "Really now? Since when do you like to linger around Vegas and Freeside?"

Shrugging slightly, Shawn slung his arm around Courier's shoulders, drawing her against him.

"I see…"

"Don't let Jeff's anti-social attitude get to you honey, once he's gotten to know ya, he'll loosen up." Shawn said with a wide grin, ignoring Jeff's eye roll. "He's just suspicious of everyone."

Jeff rolled his eyes again.

**~!~**

Jeff still had no solid idea why he was showing Katy around Freeside. She didn't really seem to be a tourist since she kept pace with him easily and knew every place he referenced. She watched the residents of Freeside without any interest, which annoyed the hell out of him. In favor for taking her around, Shawn had agreed to take over his duties for the day, which was great. Jeff liked being a doctor but he was more into his research than anything.

That and today was 'work with the chem addicts' day for him, Shawn could DEFINITELY have that job.

She was quiet though, that was a point in her favor, and he had never been big on talking himself, not with strangers. Hell he hardly spoke to the people he did know. It was just better that way. Though there were topics or situations that riled his temper or his passion, then he had plenty to say. Like now.

"Look at them." He gestured towards a group of refugees huddled around a barrel, a pitiful fire going inside of it. "There is more than enough room on the Strip for so many people but House refuses to let them in, the 'dregs' of society."

"Doesn't House own the Strip?"

"If by own, you mean he has sole sovereignty, then yes. He does." Jeff shot her a scathing look. "He doesn't care about anyone else, just himself and his dreams of restoring Vegas. Well, a specific part of Vegas."

"Sounds like a hundred other people I know." She said dryly, not bothering in the least with the attitude he was giving her. Followers of the Apocalypse –while wanting to help humanity as a whole- seemed to have trust issues with people who obviously could get along without assistance.

"What makes him a bit different from the hundred other people you know is that he's in a position to help others and make a real difference but he doesn't. He doesn't give a damn about anyone but himself."

Jeff was a very passionate man about this topic, Courier had observed, frowning when his attention shifted from her to a couple of children running down the cracked, uneven sidewalk barefooted. She watched as he crouched down and reached into the pocket of his dirty white lab coat, pulling out a handful of dried meat.

Quietly walking up behind him, she surveyed the pair. Two little boys and she was pretty certain one of them was packing a gun beneath his knee length shirt. They both were dirty which was par for the course for anyone living on the street, children included. They probably worked for one of the local shops, definitely not Mick and Ralph's though. She had seen the shouter's Mick and Ralph employed, those kids were fairly well kept.

"You know, if you come to the Fort across the block, you'd have food and a place to sleep." Jeff said softly, his entire demeanor changing from the cold, suspicious man she had met to someone kinder. "You'd be safer as well."

"We can't mister," Said the elder of the two, his mouth full of jerky, food spraying from his open mouth. "Our boss would kill us for sure if we just took off."

"Your boss?" Courier echoed, drawing their attention to her. She wasn't surprised at the speculating looks they both gave her, though it did make her heart ache to see such calculating expressions on children so young. Of course it made sense that they weren't giving Jeff the 'how much can we fleece him for' look because everyone knew Followers of the Apocalypse generally only carried themselves when they were within distance of their base, it was outside the walls when you attacked and took them for the medicines they generally carried. She on the other hand, was wearing leathers, weapons, and the gentle tink tink of bottle caps was probably roaring in their ears. Greedy little monsters.

"We work for Josie."

"Josie?"

"He runs the food table down at the East gate."

Courier suddenly remembered glimpsing 'Josie', not exactly the name she would have imagined that burly, scary looking man to possess. The guy sold food off the back of a very unsanitary cart. He had stopped them as John had been leading them past the assorted 'bodyguards for hire' and when Melina had asked him where he got his food from he had replied with: best not to know.

All in all, not a good guy to be working for. Courier really looked at the boys, a very ugly idea flashing through her mind. "How long have you two been working for um, Josie?" She asked, hoping she was just being overly dramatic.

Jeff was staring back at her, obviously trying to figure out where this was leading.

"Few months now, why?"

"And who worked for him before? Or didn't he have anyone?"

"No, he had a girl and a boy." The younger had taken over speaking now as the other boy was busy cramming more jerky into every available space in his mouth. "They died."

"From what?"

He shrugged.

Jeff was beginning to sense that was something was wrong, rising to his height, which overshadowed hers by only an inch or so. "What? What are you thinking?" He demanded.

"I think these boys should go to the Fort and we pay Mr. Josie and his 'you don't want to know' foodstuffs a visit."

Jeff cottoned on, glancing down at the children.


	28. Pipedreams

A/N: Thanks everyone for the reviews for Ch. 27 -just had to add Jeff and he'll be yet another supporting cast member from here on out. Sorry it took so long between updates, I've had a few dental surgeries done and haven't felt like writing because of, hopefully with the majority of the dental work done, I'll get back into the swing of things. This chapter doesn't *feel* up to par with most of the others but I'm going to blame 'getting back into it' for that, so... here we go!

**28: Pipedreams.**

Once Cody and Jenks had been delivered to the guards who handled security at the Fort, Courier and Jeff set out towards the East gate. Courier had toyed with the idea of getting Shawn to come along with them as she had more faith in his capabilities with a fight then the Follower's. Jeff sported a laser pistol that he said he was somewhat accurate with. Courier got the feeling that Jeff was not much of a fighter; and if he had to fight, he sure as hell would be no good in close combat.

Not that she was overly expecting too much trouble from Josie. Hell, she could be wrong; her assumption could be way past their mark. She really had no idea where they had come from to begin with.

Finding Josie wasn't very hard to do, he was in the same exact place she had always seen him at before. Down by the gate, in front of a collapsible table, with an assortment of food laid out before him; and all of it looked… disgusting. She wasn't even sure what the hell it was.

"I knew you'd come back, everyone always comes back!" Josie laughed when he seen the pair approaching him, his tiny eyes squinting as he took them in, noting the grim expressions on both faces. "Whatssamatta with you two?"

"Where do you get your meat?" Courier demanded, not bothering with any pleasantries. This wasn't a social call; and to make sure Josie knew it, she rested her hand over her gun, fingers playing with the holster.

Josie's entire face seemed to crumple in on itself. "Rats." He grunted.

"Where do you get the rats?"

"Kids."

"I see kids eating the rats, never knew they managed to hold onto one to bring to you."

Josie grunted again.

Jeff left Courier to it, busy examining the food. "When did you cook this up?"

"Two days ago."

"Add anything to it?"

"Sure, fresh rat."

Now it was Jeff narrowing his own eyes. "You're lying."

"Now little boss, what makes you think that?"

"Because there aren't enough rats to be caught for all this. I see maybe two rats a day, not only are your kids catching them to eat themselves, but so are the rest of the people living on the streets here. There aren't enough rats to go around and your kids aren't outfighting grown people."

"So what're you trying to say?" Josie had dropped the careless, playful tone of voice and now sounded a bit more… dangerous.

"What happened to your last two kids?"

He blinked.

"Well?"

"They… um…"

Bringing Jeff along really had panned out, Courier thought as she watched Jeff giving Josie the third degree with just a hint of amusement. Jeff was definitely a humanitarian, and possibly a violent one at that because he had just drawn his laser pistol. Now she was curious to know if he would use it. Her attention was drawn back to Josie when he mentioned the White Glove Society.

"You sold those kids to the White Glove Society?" She growled, now withdrawing her own gun, somewhat aware that they were beginning to attract attention. Two people, each with a gun, pointed at a local vendor's head, definitely bound to attract attention.

"They said they needed some new workers and the money was good!" Josie protested; sweat beading on his forehead as he looked back and forth between the pair, trying to decide which one was more dangerous. "That and they gave me a bit of their stock to peddle…" He gestured down to the food on his tray.

"You IDIOT! You sold off two kids to those cannibals and then took their WARES? You do realize you're probably selling PEOPLE meat, right?" Courier was ready to plug him at this point.

Josie looked down at his tray of food. "People?"

"People."

Jeff knew who the White Glove Society was, he just had no idea what had caused Courier to go from finding amusement with all this to deadly seriousness. "Fill me in."

"They're cannibals."

"They were."

"No, they are." She never stopped glaring at Josie. "I want you out of Vegas within the hour, after that, if me or any of my people see you, you're a dead man walking. Got me?"

"Now wait a damn minute, it was an honest mistake!"

"Selling children is no mistake."

"Who the hell do you think you are? You don't have any power here!"

"Want to bet?"

**~!~**

"Boss wants to see you, miss."

Courier really hated hearing that. She glanced at Victor before nodding and turning back to the elevator. "Jeff, just wait here with Shawn." She called over her shoulder.

Grunting Jeff, looked at Shawn curiously, rolling his eyes when the other man merely shrugged.

"We're not allowed up to the penthouse, no idea what House wants her for."

Jeff was still having a bit of a hard time believing he was in the Lucky 38, nobody had ever been inside, not since the Great War, until Courier and her little ragtag band of companions. He had heard about John and Melina from Shawn, and now he could hear them. Or at least the woman, from one of the adjacent rooms in the presidential suite. "Do you know anything about Mr. House?" He asked curiously.

"Just what everyone else does." Shawn began heading towards the rec room, where he knew the other two were, Jeff following in his wake. "Why?"

"House's vision is luxury without decadence, refinement without elitism, class without snobbery."

"That doesn't sound bad."

"No, not really. Until you realize that it's really all bullshit."

"How do you figure?"

"Nobody gets through those gates without passing a chip-check or having a passport, once here, you follow House's law or get the hell out. That sounds like dictatorship to me."

"Isn't House the reason New Vegas is still standing?" Melina asked, glancing at the two men briefly before returning to her game of pool.

"Yes." Jeff conceded reluctantly, standing still under the scrutinizing gaze of the ex-NCR, John. "But he doesn't use his position to affect anything other than himself. He doesn't care about anything but New Vegas, not the people that make up New Vegas but his idea of it."

"Your shot." Melina said, nodding at John before approaching Jeff, her eyes sweeping over him curiously. "Follower?"

He nodded.

"Thought so."

"What is THAT supposed to mean?"

"Honey, look around you, this is as good as it gets. For people like us, this is the top and even then, we can wind up beneath the bottom quicker than shit. I like the Followers, don't get me wrong, but you're collective idea that humanity can be united and peaceful… pipedream." She grinned at him, uncapping a flask she procured from her back pocket and took a healthy swallow. "Not a bad pipedream, but still a pipedream."

"You're wrong."

"Don't I wish."

**~!~**

"Courier… you've been making a scene in Freeside."

"Now how on earth would you know that?" Courier drawled, leaning back against the wall as she stared at the unblinking face on the monitor that was Mr. House. She already knew how he knew that, the creep had eyes everywhere, his Securitrons somehow managed to pick up on everything.

"The fact that I know is enough. You have other business you need to be attending. Wasting your time on the rabble is a distraction neither of us need."

"That rabble was selling off kids to the White Glove Society."

"I trust you will handle the Society with… kid gloves. The idea of cannibalism is repulsive and bad for business. Handle it."

He didn't care about the fact that two kids had gone into a meal so much as it was hurting his New Vegas… Jeff definitely had House's measure; and Courier found herself disliking this toad more and more. "Sure thing." She said finally, pushing away from the wall.

There were several issues she was about to resolve.


	29. Wild Cards: Change in Management

**29: Wild Cards: Change in the Management.**

The first thing Courier did was acquire a pulse pistol. The second was to revisit the Tops. She wasn't too surprised when she seen Dave behind the counter. He grinned when he seen her. "How's it going, handsome?" She drawled, allowing him to do the customary pat down, arms held out. She was going to assume he was doing it as more of a show than anything since he didn't bother with removing any of her weapons. That or he just liked feeling her up. Probably both.

"Alright. Things are getting back to normal, what with Shane being gone and all." Dave replied, stepping away from her with a slight nod to the Chairmen who had resumed their posts. "I'm in charge now."

Which would definitely explain the self-satisfied air about him, she beamed up at him. "Well I'm glad for you."

"You're room is still available, I haven't let anyone in it." He bent down so he could whisper. "That and to be honest, not many are keen on stepping foot into the boss's old room, y'know?"

She nodded solemnly. "I'm just going to head on up then."

"Need some company? I can end my shift early."

"Hmm, maybe in a few hours."

His grin widened even more.

**~!~**

"Well boss, it sure is good to see you!"

Courier trusted Yes Man a lot more now that he had been reprogrammed only to answer to her, but she still would have tried making him into scrap metal if he didn't have the potential to be so damn useful. "Today's the day, you're moving to the Lucky 38." She said, not bothering to return the greeting as she began removing the panels that lead to Shane's secret elevator, an elevator that was large enough to accommodate the Securitron.

"I am? So I take it this means you're going to go ahead with Shane's plan then?"

"Something along that line, but… different."

"You're the boss, boss!"

She smiled grimly.

**~!~**

"Courier, am I to take this as a sign that you've finished the business with the White Glove Society?"

Courier descended the stairs that led to the rotunda area of House's quarters, having been taking inventory of the Securitrons. "Not yet."

"Why not?"

That imperious tone he always used was beginning to really piss her off; and that made what was about to go down all the much sweeter.

"Sir, you are not permitted to be up here!"

That was the voice of the 'female' robot House kept.

"Courier, what is the meaning of this?"

"I brought company." She said before wheeling around and opening fire on the nearest Securitrons.

Above her on the stairway, John was shooting down the Securitrons one by one with the plasma rifle, working his way around to the opposite stairs. When she had cleared herself a path, she ran for the security panel she had noted on her previous visit, opening it and reading the welcome message. House really was a narcissist. She pressed the enter key and stepped back.

Hearing John handling business in the background, she watched as doors slid open, revealing an elevator. She quickly stepped onto it.

Moments later she was in some sort of underground chamber; and at the very end was a type of podium. Expecting to be attacked at any moment, she ran down the grate towards it and then skidded to a stop. There was a railing along the edge of the platform and beneath it was a type of long pod.

It didn't take Courier very long to access the computer that was built into the podium, watching out of narrowed eyes as the pod was raised. Her options were to open it or end support… She opened it.

And immediately wished she hadn't.

A shriveled, gaunt frame of what used to be a person was suspended in a harness. A long white, thin beard trailed from the weak, brown chin and the eyes were all but dried in their sockets. Tubes ran from all over the body, and it was painfully obvious that this was Mr. House, alive… ish.

The mouthpiece that served as a breathing apparatus moved away from his face and he took multiple shallow breaths. "You fool, what have you done?" He rasped in a frail voice, quite unlike the demanding, arrogant tone she was accustomed too.

"Well, I'm hoping what I've done is to kill you." She said flatly.

"Idiot!" The thing that was House hissed. "Without me, Vegas falls!"

"I don't think so, House. Without you, Vegas thrives." She countered softly, pressing the 'end support' button. As House began choking, she turned and headed back towards the elevator, not bothering to glance behind her.

The reign of Mr. House was over.

**~!~**

"You going to tell me why I did that?" John asked when Courier rejoined him in the bar of the Lucky 38. When he had finished his 'job', he had gone there to wait for her like they had planned. She hadn't given him much in the way of information beforehand other than to inform him she needed back-up and to give a location to meet after. He didn't really have a problem with what had just gone down, he just wanted to know the reason behind it.

"Not right now."

"Anytime soon?"

"Maybe." Courier slid onto a stool beside him, reaching for a pack of cigarettes resting on the counter and lit one up, taking a long drag and noted belatedly that her hands were shaking. "Is that a problem?"

"So long as you tell me, sooner than later, no."

She nodded, exhaling slowly.

"What next?"

"Next we got to deal with the White Glove Society."

"Then?"

"Then we're going to have to do some work outside of Vegas." She knew he was staring at her expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate on that but she didn't say anything else. She had joined him just as soon as Yes Man had finished uploading himself into House's servers, taking them over. She now effectively controlled New Vegas and the small army of Securitrons. For a brief moment the idea of that bit of power was heady but she had reminded herself that she wasn't House, hence the reason he had had to go.

She wasn't interested in setting herself up a little kingdom, or making a serious profit by exploiting others. She didn't know what the hell she was interested in, other than making sure House was gone. She had just walled herself into a position she wasn't entirely too keen on taking.

Groaning, Courier bent down until her head rested on the counter.

John arched an eyebrow, staring down at her. "Bit late to regret it now, Courier." He informed her in his usual, flat way.

"I'm aware of that John, got anything chock-full of wisdom to tell me?"

"You'd do alright in charge."

She raised her head off the counter, staring at him out of wide eyes, wondering if he was on drugs. "No, I wouldn't."

"You remember your past completely, don't you?"

She nodded.

"The battle of Hoover Dam, I was there you know."

Courier's eyes widened a fraction.

John stood up in order to reach behind the bar counter, plucking two beers from the automatic cooler and slid one to her before settling back down on the stool next to her. "I know you were one of the top people in charge there."

"1st Recon, it should have come to me sooner." Courier popped the cap off the bottle before taking a long swallow from the bottle. She had definitely been distracted lately, and now she was paying the price by immediate information. "You guys held your own at the Dam… along with…"

"Ranger Snipers, among them your now deceased husband." He finished quietly.

"You knew all this when you first met me, didn't you?"

"I recognized you."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"You obviously didn't remember me, not to mention I remember how that all turned out. You're the one who ordered the destruction of Boulder City, while you and your husband were still in it." John wasn't looking at her but down at the counter while he spoke and he knew she wasn't looking at him, both of them more than a bit uncomfortable with this conversation. "I was there with what remained of the NCR forces when you came running from Boulder, with…"

"Carlito over my shoulders." She finished, draining the rest of the beer before standing up. "We'll talk later, John. I have a few more things to handle."

John watched her walk away.


	30. Massacre at the Ultra Luxe

**30: Massacre at the Ultra-Luxe**

Two days later nothing in Vegas had visibly changed, which was how Courier wanted it. Nobody needed to know that House was no longer in charge, that would tear the city apart. The NCR, White Gloves, and Omertas would have ripped New Vegas inside out and she wasn't having that. For better or for worse, New Vegas was hers.

Melina had taken off the day before to finally go scout out her caravans, taking Jeff with her. Jeff had agreed to sign on with their little crew thanks to Shawn, though he had no idea just what they were trying to accomplish. Actually, nobody outside of Courier knew, they were all just along for the ride.

Shawn had headed back to Goodsprings to make sure his supplies had arrived and were being handled by Trudy in his absence; he estimated he would be back in New Vegas within the month. That left Courier and John alone, which suited Courier's plans just fine.

John was a soldier. He took orders. Granted, he was beginning to question her a lot, but that was a good thing. Him questioning her kept her level, mostly.

Today wasn't about being level, today was going to be a massacre.

"Mortimer is leading the rebellion against the ban on cannibalism, the chef Philippe is his second. I have no idea how many of the White Gloves are in on it, but my recommendation is to clear them all out."

Courier was looking at the sketch of the inside of the Ultra-Luxe casino John had drawn for her, noting all entrances and exits in particular. "Basis for the recommendation?" She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the fact that it was very easy to slip back into her leadership, NCR/Ranger role with John, but it was damn convenient.

"At one point, they were all cannibals and they are a tight-knit unit. Even if some of them aren't on board with the eating of people anymore, they will still probably defend the one who are. If not, we still don't need any grudges that pop up later down the road."

She considered that, knowing on one level he was right but… "Anyone who stands down isn't to be taken out. Instead we'll round them up and send them out of New Vegas with a warning they'll be shot on sight if they return." She looked up at him, noting he looked relieved. "Something you want to tell me, John?"

"No."

The way he said it told her that they were getting dangerously close to whatever his major issue was but he wasn't about to mention it. She was going to wind up going to the Embassy and digging up his history if he didn't spill, she needed to know if he was a ticking time bomb. "You going to be alright for this?"

"They eat people, and kids. I'm all for this."

"Good. Load up."

**~!~**

John and Courier, out of a group of five, were the only ones going into the Ultra-Luxe. Courier knew Melina was a tough broad, but she didn't think even the brash woman would be up for what they were about to do. She knew Jeff wouldn't; and she hardly knew the man. He was a Follower; mass-violence was not likely to be his thing. Shawn… he would probably try to talk her out of it and she didn't need that.

She had already arranged for a dozen Securitrons to surround the Ultra-Luxe to detain anyone who came flying out of the hotel. Anyone who tried to resist, they'd wind up dead. Courier knew they were looking at a high casualty rate but short of leaving the White Gloves alone she didn't see any other viable option. Of course, she could have sent them all packing out into the Mojave but… she wasn't about to leash another terror on the innocents who still managed to eke out a life in the desert.

Getting inside was going to be the hard part. Like every establishment on the Strip, the Ultra-Luxe did not allow weapons and there was no way they'd be able to sneak anything in under clothing. If this had been a larger scale operation, they could have planned something more elaborate. As it was, they were going in with guns blazing, literally.

As Courier approached the casino, she felt a sort of wall sliding in place, blocking her emotions from what was about to take place. This was something she had never been able to do before; her emotions had always gotten in the way. She no longer had that problem, and she was glad of it.

"Ready, John?"

He nodded, gripping his sniper tightly. The plan was, she would be the charger and he was to pick them off from behind, try to take out the distanced targets while she handled the ones up close. Given who he now knew she was, he figured this wasn't going to be the suicide mission originally thought. They were both trained in weapons, hand to hand combat, and other, similar disciplines. The White Gloves were civilians with canes and sharp teeth.

~!~

When it was over, John stood corrected. Those bastards had had guns; and all of them had begun using them. Skill and a lot of pure luck, a LOT of luck, had been the reason they survived. When the first shots rang out, the civilians automatically headed for the lobby and out onto the streets. Courier had shouted that any of the Society who didn't want to fight and wished to surrender peacefully could go outside; some did, but not many.

Given the number of tables, counters, and columns, they never ran out of places to take shelter behind, and John noticed Courier had no problem is using any member of the Society as a human shield, preferring to let them take a bullet than do it herself. He was doing the same thing.

They went from top to bottom, clearing out the hotel and all its room. It took what seemed like forever, and by the time they made it back to the lobby, Courier was out of ammunition and covered in blood from using her knife. John was just ready to go fall asleep, after a stiff drink.

"Good goddamn, remind me to bring more ammo next time." Courier cursed, taking a long look around before sheathing her knife back at her waist.

"You're planning another shindig like this are you?"

"Not exactly." She grinned tiredly at him, walking over to the bar in order to see if anything had survived the shootout. To her delight, she found a pack of unopened cigarettes, marred only by a bit of blood. As it hadn't seeped through the wrapper, she wasn't overly worried about it and opened the pack, sliding one out and bending down to take it between her lips. "Hopefully not."

Shaking his head, John walked over to check the mostly now shattered booze bottles. He realized that spending time with Melina was beginning to turn him into a drinker. That or maybe having a constant reminder of his past in Courier was doing it. Either way, he wanted a drink. Even if they had killed for a damn good reason, they had still killed, it had been a massacre. He remembered… no, best not think of that now.

Courier leaned back against the counter, enjoying her cigarette as she watched John help himself to a bottle of whiskey he had to dig out from beneath the bar. Her eyes narrowed in on his hands, they were shaking. "John, you-"

"Don't ask again, Courier, I'm-" John had straightened up and lost his train of thought when heard her warning shout. He whirled around in time to see Philippe raising a cleaver, blood trickling from a gunshot wound on his temple. Philippe was aiming for him. His only thought was, I'm going to die, and it didn't overly bother him.

Before the cleaver could connect with him, Courier threw herself over the bar, letting out a scream of pain when it embedded itself in the outside of her right thigh, dropping with another scream out of sight.

John's reaction finally kicked in and he raised his sniper. One pull of the trigger was enough to send Philippe to join the rest of his brethren in hell. Cursing he dropped down besides the woman who had just saved his life, rolling her slightly. "Looks like your armor stopped it from taking out your leg completely." He said in a flat, emotionless tone, his hands shaking horribly now, betraying his true feelings.

"Great…" She spit out, her hands gripping right over where the cleaver was. "Now pull it out."

"Are you-"

"NOW, John!"

He had yanked it out of her flesh before she had even finished screaming his name, his teeth grit to keep from screaming right along with her. Tossing the cleaver aside, he pressed both hands against the now furiously bleeding wound, applying pressure. "You need to put your hands over this so I can do something to stop the bleeding."

She nodded, her tanned complexion turning paler with each moment that passed. It was everything she could do to keep from passing out, the pain was so bad. She had had her ass beaten, been shot, been stabbed, but this was the first time she had taken a cleaver, and it hurt like a bitch.

While she kept pressure on the wound, John peeled off his blood and sweat soaked shirt, and draped it over his knee before reaching for the bottle of whiskey and setting it nearby. Next her retrieved her knife and began cutting away at her armor, growling softly. "You'll have to take these off, Courier."

"No, just tie your shirt around it and we'll patch me up at the Lucky 38, I don't want anyone on the Strip knowing…" She hissed, her eyes clenched shut.

He understood that, not wanting to appear weak in front of the people she was about to go out in front of. He got the feeling that she was the one calling the shots in New Vegas, something he had been considering ever since they had taken out House's Securitrons and she had disappeared somewhere inside the bowels of the casino. As tightly as he could, he tied his shirt around her leg, knowing it was only a very temporary fix. Then he gently helped Courier up, guiding her arm around him while he wrapped his around her waist. "I got you."

"I know." She whispered.


	31. The Legend of the Sierra Madre

**A/N: Purple, I am not a big John Cena fan either, can't stand to watch him on the telly usually. Sometimes he's alright but most of the time... eh... However, I do like using him as a character in my stories, I find him much more likable then. :) I finally found out quite a bit about the character of Ulysses -which is who Mark portrays, and I have to admit I like my background for him much better so I'll mostly be discarding the Fallout history when it comes to him. With this chapter, I've passed the 50,000 word mark on this story and I have no idea when it'll end, I definitely don't see it ending anytime soon. Everything in italics is taken directly from the game, more specifically the add-on content Dead Money. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy :)**

**31: The Legend of the Sierra Madre**

Somehow, Courier got through examining the people outside the Ultra Luxe, the ones who had been detained by her Securitrons. She even managed to do it without limping or leaning on John; and everyone was so scared that they never even noticed how pale she was or that she was bleeding through the shirt tied around her leg.

John noticed though. He kept near her just in case she passed out or something, trying not to hover but it honestly was hard not to. He listened as she laid out her terms –or Mr. House's terms as she said- to the remaining White Glove members. They all headed for the gates, accompanied by the Securitrons. Then she informed the civilians that they were free to go, providing they didn't cause any trouble.

The real issue was her making it back to the Lucky 38 without dropping or relying on him too much. He did wrap his arm around her and she him, leaning against him and managing to smile. They looked like a normal, albeit dirty and in one of their case bare-chested, couple.

As soon as they were inside the casino, Courier collapsed. John caught her and hoisted her into his arms, heading for the elevator. When the doors slid shut behind him, he looked down at her, not surprised to see she was unconscious.

**~!~**

Courier woke up thanks to pain, more pain than she had originally been in. It took her a moment to realize she was lying down. It took a few more moments to get her bearings. She was in her room in the suite, laying in the bed she shared with Shawn –when he wasn't away in Goodsprings. "How long was I out?"

"Ten, fifteen minutes, not long." John said, using a towel to mop away the blood that was still flowing from the now cleaned wound. He had brought her in here, divested her of her treated leather pants and sterilized the wound with whiskey, which is what had apparently woken her up. "I'm fixing to patch this up, you want me to knock you out?"

She knew he wasn't being a prick or condescending, so she resisted the urge to smack or snarl at him. Gingerly, Courier propped herself up on her elbows, staring down at her leg. John had propped it up on a mound of pillows and if she tilted her head, she could really see the spot where the cleaver had gone in.

"It's deep."

"I can tell."

"I don't have anything to kill the pain, besides whiskey."

"Pass me the bottle."

John watched as she chugged the whiskey down, knowing she was aiming for a quick drunk and didn't blame her, this was really going to hurt. He had found a first aid kit that Shawn had whipped up with a long, curved needle and some thread for stitching skin. John was pretty glad he had never ignored the medical training, even if he had only gotten a crash course in it. "You ready?"

Still clutching the bottle, Courier nodded and reclined back, forcing herself to relax, knowing that being tense would only make it worse. "Alright, stitch me up."

Taking a deep breath, John bent over her thigh.

**~!~**

Courier spent the next two days lying in bed, healing. She wasn't used to being stuck in bed, but she couldn't move around a whole hell of a lot either, not unless she wanted to really go for most painful week of her life.

With John around however, it wasn't too bad. He wasn't much of a talker, but he was a decent caravan player, and they both had respectable decks of cards, so they played that quite a bit. If not for Stimpaks, she would have spent than just the two days in bed. As it was, with John's careful tending of her along with the Stims, she was up on the third day, though she knew better than to venture out of the casino.

She kept up with what was going on in Vegas through Yes Man and the Securitrons. So far, no one but her and John knew about Mr. House and that was the way she was planning keeping it. Nobody was going to know, not until she was ready for them too, not even Shawn.

Especially Shawn.

**~!~**

"I can't wait any longer… I have to go back into the Mojave." Courier said exactly one week after she had taken the cleaver to her leg. As far as she was concerned she had recovered quite nicely, though she also knew that if she had to run for any length of time, she was probably going to discover she was a part-time cripple.

John looked up from the maps of the Mojave had had already memorized, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. "What for?"

She gave him a piercing look, wondering just how far his soldier training and loyalty would take him in regards to the plan she had been forming. "I went to the Embassy yesterday; they have non-officially stated that the NCR and the Legion are preparing for war. New Vegas will be caught in the middle of it, which if you haven't noticed, is where we happen to make our home."

"Permanent home?"

She considered that, pulling out a chair to join him at the extravagantly long dining table, sitting across from him. "I've been thinking about that, and yes, I will probably make New Vegas my permanent home. I'm not asking you, or anyone else, to stay here with me if you don't want too. You're free to go at any time."

He was silent for a long time, just staring at her. He was a quiet man by nature, and even quieter after what he had seen and done on his tour of duty with the NCR. Being around Courier seemed to bring out the talkative in him, but he had learned the hard way not to just blindly follow someone. "Before we go any further, River," He began, using her actual name to impress on her that he wasn't playing around, not that he ever played around, but he wanted to get his message across. "I want to know what you have planned. You don't start cleaning up New Vegas, eliminate the tyrant, and everything else you seem to have your fingers in without a reason. So what's the reason?"

"I pulled your file."

"How?"

"I might be retired, but I was one of the highest ranking NCR Rangers in the Mojave, I can still occasionally get a favor."

His lips compressed into a grim line.

"I know about Bitter Springs."

"You have no fucking right to even hint at that, River."

"It explains a lot about you, Cena." She said calmly, acting as if she hadn't just totally trespassed into his personal demons, which she had. But she had always known he was a ticking time bomb, she had thought it best to find out why. Now she knew and it was totally self-explanatory. "It also explains why you're following me around."

"Please, do tell." He said sarcastically.

"Because you were trying to forget your past in Novac, and that didn't work. You can't bury it and you sure as Hell cannot hide from it, I know this better than anyone. So I figure you're either using me to try to forget or you're looking for a way to make up what you did. So, which is it?"

He didn't answer her.

"I'm guessing a bit of both and I'm sure you've figured out by now, but this isn't the path to clearing away those sins. All we're doing is adding more blood to our already stained hands." This was the most she had spoken in quite a long time and definitely not her normal type of speech. She didn't do psychology very well outside her head, but John was a kindred spirit. Sort of. "And it'll probably get worse before it gets better."

"Somehow I figured that out all on my own."

"So why are you still here?"

He took a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to reach over the table and strangle her to death with his bare hands. "Because I know you're up to something and I want to know what. I've heard about you, I even briefly served with your Ranger unit at the Dam. I've seen what you've been doing lately and I want to know where it's leading too."

Taking a deep breath of her own, Courier leaned towards him, ready to explain.

**~!~**

Leaving New Vegas was a lot less of a pain in the ass than entering it had been. Courier had left with an application that linked her Pipboy to Yes Man so she would be able to keep track of what was going on as well as know when Shawn, Melina, and Jeff had returned. Of course she had left them notes, explaining she and John would be gone for maybe a month, give or take a day or two, but didn't bother telling where to look for them, she didn't need a band of people following her across the Colorado.

To avoid running into gangs, NCR, or anyone else, they took to the hills and dealt with the radscorpions instead. The odds of running into Legion this far from the main roads were pretty high but the way Courier figured it, she had a free pass since she had that necklace thing Caesar had given her and the Legion might actually show her an easier way to reach Cottonwood Cove.

Since she and John were both physically fit as well as fairly well acquainted with the territory, it took them only a few days to reach the halfway point. Which is where things began going wrong.

**~!~**

"What are you doing?" John asked, watching across from the low burning fire he and Courier were sitting around. She was fiddling with the Pipboy around her wrist.

"Seeing if I can pull in the radio, for news. But I can't get anything out- Nevermind." She stopped when a woman's voice came over the airwaves.

"_Do troubles beset you? Has fortune left you behind? If so, the Sierra Madre casino, in all its glory, is inviting you to begin again_."

"The Sierra Madre?" John's eyes grew impossibly wide. "That's a myth."

"Shut up!"

"_Come to a place where wealth, excitement and intrigue await around every corner. Stroll along the winding streets of our beautiful resort, make new friends, or rekindle old flames. Let your eyes take in the luxurious expanses of the open desert under clear star-lit skies_."

John and Courier both snorted at that.

"_Gaze straight on into the sunset from our villa rooftops. Countless diversions await: Gamble in our casino, take in the theater, or stay in one of our exclusive suites that will shelter you and cater to your every whim_."

After hearing the message start over again, Courier shut it off, not about to listen to a loop. She looked expectantly at John. "Well? What's the Sierra Madre?"

"You've never heard of it?"

"If I had, I wouldn't be asking you to tell me about it."

"It's a casino that was built a few years before the Great War, it was originally meant to be a casino and resort but the reality is: it was a small town. Anyone who went there didn't leave for anything until they checked out, everything was brought into the area but nobody but the man who designed it –Frederick Sinclair. Ultimately he wound up creating a shelter from the nuclear holocaust, the place was designed with the highest security and allegedly did its job, it survived the Great War."

"But nobody has ever seen it, have they?"

"Not anyone who has ever come back."

"Sounds like those damn blue star Sarsaparilla caps, a treasure hunter's fable."

"Maybe."

They lapsed back into silence again, neither one willing to offer up first shift so the other could sleep, neither wanted to sleep. When everything else around them fell unnaturally silent, they looked at each other, automatically reaching for their guns.

A moment later the reason for the silence became clear, everything was heading for shelter.

"Storm."

Courier didn't bother acknowledging the obviousness of John's simple statement, instead she began looking around for a place they could hunker down until it blew over. Storms were never fun to go through, at least not without full body armor to protect against the shit the storms usually blew around, not to mention the chance for radiation.

"Come on," She said finally, getting to her feet and began stomping out the fire. Quicker than most people, they had grabbed up their gear and began running away from the approaching storm.

"What's that?" John shouted, pointing just ahead, heat lightening illuminating what he was looking at. "Bunker, come on."

Not bothering to list the reasons why it wasn't all that great an idea to even approach it, Courier followed him. She crouched down just as a dry, hallow log went flying over where her head had been only moments before. She looked at him over the top of the grating they both were reaching for. "Be ready." She advised.

He nodded, pulling along with her. As soon as it was open, he took lead and dropped down into the hole. Courier followed quickly.

They both stood still, listening, with guns drawn. Other than a somewhat familiar woman's voice, they heard nothing. It was a bunker, illuminated dimly by lights that must have been installed before the Great War, no doubt they'd still be burning when the world ended.

"…_join us, let go, and leave the world behind at the Sierra Madre grand opening this October… we'll be waiting_."

"Well… that's… weird." Courier muttered, slowly beginning to follow the voice –which was much louder and clearer now than it had been on her Pipboy- down the reinforced metal tunnel. Off to both her left and right the tunnel split off, and brief glances showed beds built into the wall in one room and equipment in the other. She made a mental note to scavenge before they left.

At the end of the tunnel, in the final room, was a small table with a radio sitting in the very center. This was where the transmission was coming from. Feeling a bit better now that she knew she and John were completely alone, she holstered her Magnum and stared down at it, feeling John joining her. "This is your lost casino."

"This is a bunker, with a radio."

Circling the table, Courier devoted her thoughts to the radio, wondering why anyone would put it here and loop the broadcast, what was the point? She knew for a fact that this had not been playing since the Great War, the signal would have been lost. So someone must have found the original tapes and rebroadcast them. But why?

"River…"

Frowning at how slow John said her name, she looked up, noticing that her own movements were becoming sluggish. Her eyes shot to the vents and seen the nearly transparent fumes. "We have to get out of here!"

John nodded, then dropped.

She joined him a moment later.

"_Has your life taken a turn? Do troubles beset you? Has fortune left you behind_…"


	32. Finding God

**A/N: I wasn't going to post this until Sunday but then realized today I wasn't going to be home this weekend!****The Sierra Madre is from Dead Money, downloadable content for Fallout New Vegas, and I found the mini-story to good to pass up on for TIW. That and it's perfect for revealing more of John's past :)****  
**

**32: Finding God**

Courier woke up feeling groggy and rather cold. Instead of opening her eyes right away she continued to feign being passed out, listening to the noise around her and trying to get an idea of her surroundings as well as who had been ballsy enough to do this to her.

She knew she was laying on cement of some kind, it felt odd beneath her skin. Her skin… she then realized why she was cold, she was nearly naked. Her leather armor had been removed, leaving her in a pair of thin pants and an even thinner undershirt. Even her feet were bare.

She could feel something heavy and metallic around her throat and her fingers itched to reach up and pry it off, but something told her that would be disastrous. A dry wind raked over her and brought with it a scent that was unpleasant and unfamiliar. It wasn't outright gross, but it smelled like impending death, and that worried her.

"I know you're awake." Came a crisp, grim voice.

She opened her eyes and slowly sat up, getting her first look of her surroundings. She knew instantly she was inside the famed Sierra Madre, and she was really kicking herself in the ass for assuming it was nothing more than a myth. Next to her, John was also coming out of his 'sleep', looking just as alert as she was. She realized he was also stripped down, to just his fatigues and dog tags. Under any other circumstances, this wouldn't have been a bad thing as John was not hard on the eyes by any means. However… given their situation, she really wished he was clothed.

He was also wearing a collar, which is what she had around her neck. Standing up alongside of him, she examined his, feeling him gently examining hers.

"They are rigged to explode if you try to move them."

They instantly stopped fucking with the bombs around their throats.

"Who are you and why have you brought us here?" Courier demanded, facing the voice, which turned out to be a hologram of an older man in robes, right in the middle of a water fountain that wasn't shooting out water. Instead, the basin of the fountain was littered with gold coins, Sierra Madre casino tokens she realized.

"I am Father Elijah, and I brought you here woman, to do a job for me."

"And if we say no?"

"Then I'll simply detonate your collars and recruit others."

"Kidnap you mean." John corrected in a steely tone.

The hologram flickered.

Seeing no immediate way to get the collar off, Courier knew they were going to have to play ball with this madman. "What's the job?"

"It is a series of jobs, and your first task is to recruit your partners. You'll be needing all of them to get into the casino."

"Into the casino? You're going to have us break into the casino? Why don't you do it your damnself?"

"Because I cannot, I have tried. But I want what's in there, badly enough to kill you for it if need be. But you are much more useful to me alive and I am sure you want to live. If you complete this job, I will let you go and return you to your barren desert existence."

"Let us have our gear back."

"I don't think so. You could do a lot of damage before your collars exploded. I would rather you not destroy my Seirra Madre. Now enough with the chatter, pay attention. Look around you, do you see the red gas to your left?"

They both swiveled to look, finding a red, noxious looking gas that hovered through a set of gates.

"It is lethal to you, avoid it if you can or you will eventually die from toxin poisoning. Or become one of the Ghost People, perhaps death would be kinder."

"Ghost People?"

"The residents, the ones who were trapped here when the bombs fell. Somehow they survived and adapted to the gas, though they have shown no traces that they are still human outside of their appearance. They seem to prefer to attack."

John was beginning to really wish he had stayed in Novac. "What's the first task?"

"You need to retrieve your teammates. There are three of them and they have all spread out over the grounds. You, woman, still have your Pipboy, but only because I can use it to upload coordinates to you and relay messages at will. Do not think to use it against me."

"Or you'll blow my head off, got it."

The hologram winked out.

**~!~**

Their first companion turned out to be a schizophrenic Super Mutant. John and Courier were both tired and anxious when they had finally found 'Dog'; and the fact that he was apparently insane did nothing to make them feel any better.

They had followed his coordinates southwest from the fountain to the old police station, marveling at how everything was still in such good condition, which Courier theorized was probably due to the gas as there was nothing else in the area that could have such an effect on the surroundings.

They had also gotten their first glimpse of the Ghost People, humanoid things in old rubberlike full body suits and helmets. The Ghost People had adapted old propane tanks and large hooks as weapons, and they were extremely quick. Though they died when you snapped their neck, the problem was getting close enough to do it without getting killed in return.

They had also found out that there were vending machines all over the place, and they charged those gold tokens Courier had found in the fountain, charged an exorbitant amount for items. But they began scooping up the tokens and using them to buy themselves Stimpaks, only a few each since that was all the money they had. They kept their eyes open for more though, those machines also sold weapons.

John had suggested breaking the machines, and they had, only to discover nothing in it. Courier had a few theories but nothing major, science was not her thing.

They had made their way into the police station and discovered quickly that radios that were still turned on, or P.A. systems, would trigger their collars, something Elijah had neglected to mention. John and Courier were regulated to throwing whatever they could lay their hands on at the radios in order to destroy them and shut them off.

The collars didn't explode automatically, a warning beep would sound and the quicker the beeps came, the closer they were to going off and the closer they were to the source of the trigger. John estimated they had thirty seconds roughly to get through a danger area before they exploded, which, if they found the source of the signal and could scamper quick enough, they could shut off.

It was John who found a holodisk introducing Dog and God, who they at first thought were two separate people. As they ventured further into the police station, and down towards the basement, an actual voice got louder and they discovered it was two separate identities in the same Mutant.

"That is a Nightkin." John said after Courier called the Mutant a schizophrenic, studying the whining beast contemplatively. "They all suffer from multiple personality orders, dissociative orders, and schizophrenia to some degree. It's because they have a tendency to use Stealthpaks."

"So a Nightkin is another breed of Mutant, with a personality issue? Great…"

"Where is Master?" The Nightkin –Dog- whined, staring at them from inside his cage. "Did he go away? Dog will be good this time?"

"Master?"

"Elijah." John snorted, more than just a hint of contempt in that one word. "See the bear trap around his wrist?"

She did see it and wondered how the beast could suffer the pain it must have caused. "What happened to your arm?"

"It shuts the Voice up. Dog doesn't like the Voice. Pain makes it go away."

"The voice must be God." She navigated to the store holodisks on her Pipboy screen, playing the transcript they had found.

The effect was instant. Dog's features went slack for a brief moment only to be replaced with intelligence and cunning that hadn't been there before. They waited cautiously, not sure what to expect from this apparently different entity.

"Your name is ironic." Courier said at last, drawing its eyes to her.

"Oh?"

"God is Dog spelled backwards, and the relationship between the two suggests…"

"You are not as ignorant as I thought you to be."

"Well lucky me."

"Don't piss off the Nightkin." John advised, having a feeling God or whoever he was could probably get out of that cage a lot easier than Dog could've. "Did hearing your own voice bring you out of…"

"The basement."

"The… basement?"

"Yes."

"How does Dog come back?"

"By hearing Elijah's."

"So… if I were too…" Courier held up her Pipboy, staring directly at him. "Play Elijah's orders, you would disappear?"

"That Pipboy… maybe I'll tear it off your arm and wear it around my neck." God said with narrowed eyes, staring directly at her.

"And maybe I'll just leave you in there to rot."

"No, you wouldn't. Apparently you need me, or Dog, or else you wouldn't be down here. If you did leave me here, I'd get out and you won't escape this place alive. I'd shatter every one of your limbs to splinters and leave you here."

"Threatening me doesn't make me anymore inclined to let you out."

"You'll have to excuse my aversion to greedy treasure hunters."

John had listened to the exchange and got the feeling God was enjoying conversing and wasn't really out to do them any harm, at the moment. He wouldn't, however, put it past the Nightkin to try to maim them if they royally pissed it off. "We're not treasure hunters."

God fixed him with a skeptical look.

"We got caught in a storm, found the bunker, and wound up- why am I explaining myself to you? Who cares how we got here, we just want to get out."

"And you have absolutely no interest in treasure?"

Courier snorted, shaking her head. "Unless this treasure is proper clothes and an arsenal of weapons, then no."

"For now, we have an accord then. I have no desire to follow you two into a stupid, life-ending hunt for the treasure."

"But you'll follow us?"

"I have too. If you two succeed in whatever Elijah has sent you down here to do, then perhaps you can help me remove the collar."

"I don't see a collar." John informed him, having taken in every visible inch of God.

"My less intelligent brother, Dog, swallowed it in one of his hunger rages. It is inside of me."

"Oh."

**~!~**

Instead of keeping God with them, they took him to the fountain and asked him to wait. He agreed though a bit reluctantly, hinting that he might not be there when they returned, IF they returned. They had to point out that if he exploded because he didn't listen, it wasn't their fault.

Finding the next person on the list wasn't any easier, in fact, it was a hell of a lot harder. They had to make their ways towards the medical villa and that meant passing through that damn gas and dealing with the Ghost People even more.

The only plus side was once they reached the clinic, they found a suit that would fit Courier, along with a set of lace up boots. The suit was unlike anything either one had ever seen before but neither could determine if it held any computerized properties, probably not given how long it had probably been sitting. It was black with armor plates on the chest, back, shoulders, forearms and the knees. Once Courier had put it on, she was pleased to discover a belt with pouches to hold things and holsters around each thigh for a gun. Now if only she had a gun.

The next thing they found was a very long knife that they tested out on a desk. It did a lot of damage to that desk by the time they were done and the blade wasn't damaged or dulled afterwards. John kept hold of the knife.

"Now we need to find you clothes and me a weapon." She commented, watching as he carefully made a sheath for the knife at his waist with the material from her undershirt.

"My lack of clothes isn't a problem, I'll survive."

"Unless you get shot in the chest of something."

"Not very likely here."

"Catch a cold."

"I don't mind the cold. Does my being without a shirt bother you?"

"Yes," She answered honestly. "But not in the way you're thinking. You're exposed and that bothers me from a war perspective, you need armor." When he seemed satisfied with that answer, she could not resist smirking. "That and as far as I know, you're Melina's man, elsewise I wouldn't mind giving you a good tumble or two."

Seeing the tips of John's ears go bright red had made that remark very worth it.

**~!~**

The woman, Christine, had been locked inside an Auto-Doc and from the blood that stained the viewing window, she had had a very painful surgery. While John kept watch from the doorway, Courier opened the machine and caught the woman before she hit ground. "She's unconscious." She announced after checking Christine's pulse. "Alive though."

"Good."

She crouched down, gently easing Christine onto her back and studied her. She was bald, and there were scars all over her head. There were also scars on her throat, recent scars. "I don't know what this woman went through but-" She stopped when Christine's eyes opened, staring down into large brown orbs. "Hello."

Christine opened her mouth and nothing came out. As if remembering what had happened to her, she clamped her lips shut and pushed Courier away, rolling to her feet unsteadily.

"We're not here to hurt you, Christine. We're here because we need your help. Do you know where you are?"

Christine had planted herself behind the Auto-Doc and was peering around it at them. She nodded once.

"Do you know sign language?" To emphasize, Courier drudged up what few words she knew how to sign, stopping when Christine shook her head no. "Shit…"

~!~

In the end they took her back to the fountain, explaining the situation as they went. Christine seemed to accept it and sat on the edge of the basin, staring curiously up at God who was regarding her just as thoughtfully. When he asked about her, Courier quickly filled him in and he, for a brief moment, had a look of compassion cross his Mutant face.

"One more to go, Courier… Dean Domino."

Courier nodded wearily.


	33. Bonding

**33: Bonding.**

Getting to Dean Domino turned out to be a two day –possibly, telling time here wasn't easy- excursion. Neither Courier or John could pick the lock on the gate that led straight to the residential section so they had to take the long way around. The long way around entailed gas, radiation, Ghost People, and to cap it all off, a shitload of traps. Traps of mines, tripwires, and a multitude of other things that were intended to take their heads off.

They caught a break when they managed to retrieve a suitcase laden with useful gear from a pit of frag grenades without blowing themselves up. After that they decided to find a place to sleep for a little while, both of them having been running full steam since finding themselves here in the Sierra Madre. Finding a safe location was the hard part, but eventually they decided on top of a guard post, which was high enough to keep the Ghost People off of them –they had observed that Ghost People didn't climb.

"If we fall," Courier said, peering over the three inch ledge that separated her from the ground. "it's your fault."

"If we fall, let's hope we die on impact. We'll sleep in shifts. We won't fall." John assured her, settling down to rifle through the suitcase. "What do we… Hungry? There's food."

"Oh thank god, I'm starving." To make that clear, her stomach growled loudly, and she was too hungry to even think about being embarrassed. "What is it?"

"Chips and snack cakes, dosed with minimal amount of radiation."

"Fuck it, I'll risk it."

John rationed out the food, setting his portion aside in order to look for something to drink. "No water… but I did find some scotch…"

She arched an eyebrow.

He shrugged.

They'd make do.

**~!~**

Splitting a bottle of scotch on mostly empty stomachs while sitting up on a platform that if they fell off of would result in death probably wasn't the best of ideas, but they did it anyway. Partly because the food wasn't enough to fill either of them up, also because it was getting colder –which made them assume it was nighttime but since the light here wasn't entirely natural and the gas distorted everything they couldn't be sure.

"I can't believe we got trapped in this fucking place…" Courier groaned, sitting with her legs dangling over the edge of the platform. She had shed her armor and placed it in the center of the planks for them to use as a sort of pillow. She couldn't sleep in it, the damn plates kept cutting into her spine and ribs when she tried. So now she was wearing nothing but her thin pants and a dingy old bra she had bought from a trader. She could have probably asked John for her undershirt back but she preferred that really sharp knife to stay wrapped up and away from their skin.

"Me either… I'm going to slit that Elijah's throat and drink his blood."

"Me too." She accepted the bottle when he passed it to her, squinting one eye at the remaining contents of the bottle. "Enough for one more shot each." She sighed, downing half of what was left quickly and offered it back to him.

John drained the rest, and then took aim. A moment later he had flung it down into the courtyard where one of the Ghost People had been shuffling in a square for about an hour now. It cracked the creature right on top of its helmet covered head. The Ghost looked up at them and then went back to treading its square.

"Nice shot, I think its keeping tabs on us though."

"Yep."

"Fuckin' things… I'm surprised they ain't tried to hurl some of them propane tanks up this way."

"Not so loud, River! You want to give them ideas!"

"Hell, might be a quick death, that'd be nice."

John scowled and slapped her upside the back of her head, catching her hand when she tried to retaliate. "Enough or we'll fall." He peered down at the ground and swallowed hard. "That is a damn long way to fall."

"Yep." She scooted herself back until she could rest her head on her armor. "I would kill to see stars right about now."

"I would kill for a blanket." He said as he laid down next to her, feeling his flesh break out in goosebumps when a breeze assaulted them.

She would have too and rolled so she was facing him. "Put your arms around me." She ordered, snuggling against him and draped her arm over his waist, feeling him slowly doing the same. It helped a little bit, now it was just her back that was exposed, at least until she felt John splaying his hands, that helped too. "Better?"

"Better. Don't ever mention this to Melina."

"Like I want her to hit me again?" She laughed against his chest, feeling him shiver as her breath hit his skin. "So you two are for real and not just sexing it up."

"I wouldn't say that, but I know how she gets when she's been drinking… and sober. You and Shawn together?"

"We're… something, I don't know if it's together though. We're two very different people and he don't approve of a lot of the things I do."

"Like running off into enemy territory to have a meet 'n greet with Caesar?"

"That'd be one of them."

"Can't blame the man. I wouldn't like my woman running off into danger headfirst either."

"I'm my own woman."

"You definitely got a brass set, some woman…"

She smacked him.

**~!~**

"I killed her."

That had come out of nowhere. The scotch was still messing with her equilibrium so she didn't bother moving from her place nestled snugly, warmly, against him. She just kept her face hidden against his chest, listening.

"Carla. I saw the Legion taking her from town from the Rex." He murmured, running one hand up and down the curve of her spine idly. "I followed them, I couldn't keep up though, they were fast and had a head start on me. When I seen them crossing the river, I found a position and took aim. I shot her, killed her and our baby she was carrying. It was better for her, see? If I wouldn't have, she'd of lived as a slave, they'd of taken the baby from her, raped and beat her… I couldn't let her suffer that."

This explained quite a bit about John but she also knew it wasn't the whole kit and caboodle of his issues, there was also Bitter Springs but she didn't think they'd be discussing that tonight. In fact, she was pretty sure he was crying. Liquor did funny things to people.

It took her a moment to realize she was crying as well.

"Don't cry River, not for me."

"I'm crying for all you. Carla, the baby, and you."

"Not for me." He whispered hoarsely. "Never for me."

**~!~**

Courier woke up feeling like she was falling and almost screamed, then she felt John tightening his arms around her and relaxed. She had no idea how long she had slept and wouldn't until she checked her Pipboy, which she wouldn't be able to do until John let her loose.

John was wide awake and suffering from a side effect of alcohol while tired and starving, loose tongue. He also had a bit of cotton mouth going on and knew they were going to have to scavenge for water eventually. He felt Courier shifting against him and groaned softly. "Don't do that."

It took her a moment to understand what was wrong with him and she froze, knowing that wasn't his gun she was feeling against her stomach. He didn't even have a gun… "Sorry." She grunted, pushing away from him. "I always forget you boys wake up, standing at the ready."

"Ha ha…" John rolled onto his side, presenting her with his back. "A man ain't got any privacy up here…"

"Take a piss, smack it around, just handle the morning wood so we can get going."

She really could be a cold woman sometimes, and John found himself wondering if she ever told Shawn to 'smack it around', snorting at the idea. "Come over here and let me smack it on you a few times, River." He suggested, hearing her growl of annoyance and smiled slightly.

"If anything is going to be smacking anything, it'll be my hand against your face."

**~!~**

"You hear that?" John demanded, tilting his head to the side as he strained to listen. He glanced backwards at River, who looked just as tired as he felt. They had been crawling through dilapidated houses, trying to avoid setting off the numerous traps, and avoid the Ghost People. They were both slicked in sweat, probably suffering permanent loss of smell from inhaling toxic odors, and exhausted from the trek.

She nodded, staring off down the corridor. Light shifted in from the numerous holes and cracks from the ceiling, and the floorboards beneath her feet creaked. She honestly wouldn't be surprised if the floor caved in, sending her and John down three floors to their deaths. So long as it was quick and relatively painless, she figured it wouldn't be so bad.

Coming from just ahead of them was the sound of someone talking, and from what they could hear of the muted conversation, this person was talking to himself. They were hazarding a guess at this being Mr. Dean Domino.

Sure enough, when they reached the end of the hallway, they found themselves standing in what must have once been a living room. The front wall had been completely blown out somehow, leaving a spectacular view of the residential section. Sitting before this open 'window' in a high backed, seen better day's armchair was a ghoul.

"You must be Dean."

Dean didn't jump, he had been expecting them. He merely looked up at her and then gestured to the chair beside him.

Courier looked down at the armchair, arching an eyebrow. This man had laid out traps all over the residential district and been watching them scramble their asses off, she didn't trust him. He was also drinking something with a neon glow in a martini glass; she definitely did not trust him. Knowing she was probably planting her ass in a trap, she sat down.

"Don't move or you'll find your ass where your brains should be. You're sitting on explosives that are pressure sensitive. Your fleshy backside just triggered them."

Not surprising. Courier glanced at John, who was raising his hand as if to backhand the ghoul. "No."

Dean swiveled in his seat in order to glare at John, raising his decaying hand to reveal a trigger in his clenched fist. "There is more than one way to detonate your friend into a million pieces." He warned.

John stood down.

Courier let out a sigh of relief.


	34. Reunion

**34: Reunion**

After negotiating with Dean, not getting blown up, and royally pissing the Ghoul off, they finally managed to get him back to the fountain. He looked relatively startled to see Christine but otherwise said nothing or gave no sign of knowing anyone else.

Courier filed away the surprise at seeing Christine away for a later date, instinctively knowing something was going on there. Christine for her part didn't seem to recognize Dean in any way, though she was also –from what Courier could tell- a blank faced person anyway.

Next they were given a list of tasks from Elijah to complete. Each task involved taking God, Christine, and Dean to different places and putting them into position. Using her Pipboy to chart a course from the intel it had gathered, they set off with the three in tow, neither feeling at ease with the situation. Dean was muttering under his breath angrily and God had no problem in voicing his opinions aloud, not many of them positive. Christine simply walked behind them, her eyes wide and taking in everything but revealing nothing.

They took God to the Switching Substation in Salida del Sol, convincing him to do the required task, which was flipping a switch, sort of. There was a high risk of electrical shock but his Nightkin hide would protect him from the worse of it, unlike their tender human skins.

Next they took Dean to Puesta del Sol South. That was tricky, there were holograms everywhere. These holograms could not be harmed in any way, shape, or form. They were security holograms that patrolled the Sierra Madre and the only way they could be shut down was to… shut them down, by shooting their radius controls which could be anywhere and were hard to spot, or locating a terminal and manually shutting them down. The real kick in the balls was that the holograms and their holographic guns were more than capable of harming everything around them, including humans.

They had to get Dean to stand under an archway, holding two wires. The wires, when God flipped his switch, would need to be connected, and Dean's body would be the conduit. Dean refused to do it until they had taken out the holograms. That had been a bitch and a half, and John wound up diving over a pile of broken timber just to avoid having his head melted by a laser. Afterwards, it had taken him twenty minutes to get back on his feet. He didn't complain but the way he moved told Courier he had injured his back.

Their last task was to escort Christine to the Puesta del Sol switching station, where she was to use her computer skills to reroute the Villa's power. Elijah had said this would activate the Gala event and open the doors to the Sierra Madre Casino.

When it was all said and done, John and Courier had to take another rest, knowing it would probably piss Elijah off but if he wanted them to do whatever it was he wanted they had to be in top shape. Fighting with these Ghost People, evading traps, and worrying about their heads exploding from their collars was not conducive to their physical or mental states.

"Where to next?" John asked as he took a swig of the purified water they had managed to scrounge, passing the bottle to her. They were sitting with their backs against one of the buildings, hidden by four pillars and an archway. The fact that they had cleared this section out of the Ghost People helped their security factor.

"Salida del Sol, northeast side. We're going to climb an old tower and trigger whatever this Gala Event is, the Sierra Madre's opening."

"So let me see if we've understood this properly," John said, resting his head on top of hers. "The Sierra Madre was never actually opened. It was built, prepared, and ready to go but the Great War happened so…"

"So the Grand Opening didn't happen."

"We've been lucky so far, River. I'm beginning to wonder how much longer our luck is going to last."

"Don't say that John," She groaned, abruptly raising her head, forcing him to move. "The way I figure it, I'm about out. I've lived through way too much shit; almost died more times than I can count… if I'm going to die here, you realize you'll probably go with me, right?"

"You're right, I shouldn't have said it."

**~!~**

"We are so FUCKED!" Courier screamed, staring down into the courtyard. She and John had scaled up into the tower –which afforded them a great view of the surrounding territory- and triggered the opening of the Sierra Madre. Fireworks and a lot of loud, overly cheery music had immediately started up. The music was attracting the Ghost People by the dozen. The courtyard was filled with the bastards and she had never wished for a sniper rifle so badly in her life.

John knew they were safe enough up here, except for the obvious: starvation or dehydration. Or… "We have red cloud coming in, Riv." He announced, hearing her let loose another string of curses. "ETA is about twenty minutes, unless it shifts directions."

"Goddamn it!" She cursed, dropping down to a crouching position and leaned her back against the wooden paneling of the tower space. Digging her knuckles into her forehead, she tried to think, panic over the situation not helping. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, she began clearing her head, organizing their priorities one by one. "Alright, alright… we need to get down from here and to the casino."

John nodded, hunkering down in front of her, knowing better than to interrupt. He had seen this woman's battle plans in action before, heard her reputation, and personally traveled with her. He had very little doubt of her ability to assess a situation and devise an appropriate plan of action.

"What do we have left in our bag of tricks?"

The bag of tricks was actually the suitcase they had salvaged and kept adding too whenever they found something useful. "Two Stimpaks, some liquor, old clothing… two knives, three folding, throwing spears… and a bag of crisps."

"And our guns."

"We're both down to one clip, plus whatever is left in the cartridge."

"Alright… here's what we're going to do…"

**~!~**

It took them almost the entire twenty minutes, but by the time they had no choice but to evacuate, John and Courier had made themselves six fire bombs with the liquor, clothing and gauze. Their plan of attack was to get as close to the exit as possible without having to actually touchdown on the ground and then use the bombs as a distraction to get through the gates and out of Salida del Sol. They would hack one of the terminals on their way towards the casino for more supplies and Courier was banking on the actual casino being pretty well stocked. If it hadn't gotten the chance to officially open, then by her reasoning, it was still in 'pre-opening' mode with everything ready to go. She was hoping anyway, they weren't going to make it much further the way they had been.

She and John were both trained in hand to hand combat, it was a requirement for any NCR personnel and she had trained with the best in the Desert Rangers: including her mentor Steve Austin. But hand to hand was only going to carry them so far with those Ghost People and their curved hooks and penchant for throwing combustible items. Speaking of combustible…

"If they are packing any of those damn propane tanks, try to aim for those before they leave the Ghost's hands, maybe we'll get lucky and take out the pack."

John grunted, his way of letting her know he had heard her loud and clear. Talking wasn't any easy feat at the moment; they were hustling ass as fast as they could over the tiled, dangerous roofs of the buildings. He has lost count of how many times either one of them had slipped as the curved tiles gave way and slid down to the ground below, nearly taking them with.

They reached the end of the line and both straddled the peaked roof, dangling their legs on either side, Courier shifting until she was turned facing him. They were both slick with sweat and still exhausted, and not only were more Ghost People streaming towards the closed gates, but the Red Cloud was coming as well.

"I see a problem." John said after he had caught his breath. "The gates."

"I can hack them if you can buy me enough time."

"That's not the problem, River. The problem is, we'll have to shut them and hope to God they hold out long enough for us to do whatever Elijah wants done, or else they'll storm the casino."

"I know." She had already figured on that scenario.

He didn't look surprised. "And?"

"And the casino will be more defensible when it comes to the Ghosts, it's what IN the casino now that worries me. There will definitely be more of those damn holograms." She groaned, hunching forward until she could rest her head against the tile, trying to take a deep breath without overly drawing anything noxious into her system. "I don't want to die here, John, so let's try not to fuck up, eh?" She had way too much going on in New Vegas to die in this fucked up, mythic place. Not to mention the people she had relying on her, and Shawn.

Shawn was probably going to kill her anyway if he ever found out about this.

"I'm not too eager to die here either, I'd prefer to go taking out Legion."

"You and me both." She flashed him a tired smile before straightening up and opening the protective cover she had had installed over her Pipboy, navigating to the radio menu.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to either hack into any nearby frequencies or extend mine, maybe find out what's going on OUTSIDE of here, out in the Mojave."

"As I'll ever be."

She scooted forward until she was pressed against him as tightly as possible and moved her head up, kissing him firmly on the lips.

John was surprised but returned it, neither one of them trying anything else other than the simple kiss. "Just in case?" He whispered when she pulled away.

"You betcha. If we make it out of this alive…."

"We'll never tell Melina, she'd kill us both."

"Agreed."

**~!~**

"Power has to be turned back on first." Courier said as they approached made for the casino, ignoring the sounds of the Ghost People banging on the shut gate behind them. Coughing to expel smoke from her lungs, she patted her knee, putting out the small fire that managed to grow from a little piece of ember. They had done quite a job back there, she was pretty sure they had taken out most of the Ghost pack, and damn near themselves.

John had burns covering his right arm, though there was nothing he could do for them other than their Stimpak, which took away the pain and mostly healed them, mostly. He was just grateful it hadn't been worse or the Stimpak wouldn't have done jack shit. "Alright, power. Then we find the kitchen and hope to God there's water stocked there…"

"Agreed."

"Why don't you make a stop by this empty fountain first?"

They both halted and looked around for the third voice, their eyes darting to her Pipboy.

It took her a moment, but eventually she brought her wrist to her mouth, wondering if Mick and Ralph had done more upgrades then what she had requested, making a mental note to check with them when she made it back to New Vegas, refusing to acknowledge the 'if' in the equation. "Identify yourself."

Even over the comm she could hear the darkness in the laughter that followed and instantly knew who it was, sharing a look with John, his blue eyes widening when he realized who it was.

"Undertaker."


	35. Commander

**A/N:** No, John and Courier will not be getting romantic, lol, I don't *think*. I write whatever comes and a kiss before possibly dying seemed to be in order. We'll see what happens as the story progresses. Anyone who read Time For Miracles is going to see a reference to the President Eden/DC incident in this chapter. **  
**

**35: Commander**

It hadn't been easy tracking River here. He had been making his way towards Cottonwood Cove, along the same route River and Cena had no less, when his radio had picked up on a very low signal, it kept fading in and out. Unlike her Pipboy, he had no way to trace where the frequency was coming, not anymore since he no longer possessed his Enclave gear, and had had to rely on himself. Which was the way he liked it.

When he had heard 'Sierra Madre' on one broadcast and then River and John speaking faintly on another, he had known where to look, though no idea how to get in. He had known of the legend, and figured it the place had once been in this area or nearby, getting in had been the problem. He had stumbled onto the bunker through fortunate accident.

He was sitting on the fountain rail, one leg stretched out before him, the other bent at the knee with his boot firmly planted on the ground, smoking a cigarette. His eyes narrowed when he seen River and John cautiously approaching, noting their condition and snorted. He had figured they were running ragged, especially when he had found their gear stashed in a footlocker near one of the cots in the bunker, near the entrance to the Casino grounds.

Taking a long pull off the cigarette, he stood up, kicking at the bag with their stuff to draw their attention to it. "Missing something?"

Courier walked right up to him, standing toe to toe with him, her eyes unreadable.

He wasn't surprised when she tried throwing a fist at his head, catching it and twisting sharply until she was turned so her back was to his chest, his eyes meeting Cena's. "I'm guessing you got your memories back."

"Fuck you."

"All of them apparently." Smirking, he pressed his lips to her cheek, trailing kisses down her jawline. "Now is this any way to treat an old friend? Especially one who brought you your things and plans to help you out of a bad situation?" He had spotted the collars around both her and Cena's neck, gathering what they were instantly. This was a hostage type situation, and he approved of the collars, from a professional point of view. As this wasn't his deal, he didn't overly care much for one of them being around River's neck, he was the one who got to kill her, no one else.

"The last time I saw you, and wasn't out of my mind, I swore up and down I would paint the desert with your blood. The time before that, I pushed you over the Hoover Dam." Courier said evenly, refusing to rise to his baiting, though she did turn her head when he tried pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "You have a death wish, don't you?"

"What can I say? Your murderous ass turns me on."

John was now rifling through their gear, moving it out of Taker's reach before leveling his sniper rifle at 'Taker's head. "Let her go."

Smirking, Taker let her go.

Keeping his aim trained on the other man, John gestured for Courier to join him. "Come on, let's finish this and get the fuck out of here."

They took turns keeping an eye, and a gun, on Taker while getting dressed; neither bothering with false feelings of shyness or modesty, there was no time for it. Once back in their respective gear, with their equipment and weapons, both Courier and John felt more in control of the situation.

Shouldering her own assault rifle, Courier walked right up to Taker, rolling her eyes when he looked her up and down, obviously thinking some lewd things about her leathers, even though he had just seen her stripped down. "Do I have to worry about you and your motives or should I just shoot you now?"

He shrugged, grinning his evil smile, acid green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Take your pick. If I go with you, well… you know I can handle myself."

"You're not seriously considering taking him, are you River?"

"We have a pretty good idea what's in there, Cena." She said, using her 'chief' tone, which effectively shut John up and made him snap too. "We're going to need all the help we can get. However, if you so much as look at me funny, Taker, I'll kill you and leave you to rot, we clear?"

"Crystal, _Chief_."

**~!~**

Getting into the Sierra Madre Casino wasn't all that hard, even though they now had to deal with Elijah more often in terms of communication. He wouldn't shut up and stop telling them what to do, even though at this point, they had his instructions memorized. The first thing Courier made priority was turning on the damn power.

The casino itself was a glorious testament to the creator's genius. Everything was in perfect condition, minus the copious amounts of dust everywhere. It was also a giant maze that they had to navigate, with the added dangers of damn security holograms patrolling.

"Do you have any idea how much those things would be worth?" Taker breathed as the trio crouched behind a series of pillars, watching the transparent hologram patrol a corridor, knowing what they could and that they were invulnerable. Their only weakness was their security box and the fact that they were limited to a specific radius.

"Commander, my databank has extensive knowledge of the holograms. If you can download their information from a terminal, I should be able to recreate them for New Vegas if you wish."

"What the fuck?" Taker demanded, staring at Courier.

John and Courier were both staring at her Pipboy.

"Yes Man?" She asked tentatively.

"Yes, Commander."

"Why are you calling me Commander?"

"Because I have researched all you military files and your previous title of 'chief' is not accurate. You were in command of active military units, therefore you are a Commander."

John rolled his eyes, wondering if they were really discussing rank when there were other pressing matters on hand.

"How did you tap into this frequency?"

"I installed my programs onto your Pipboy, Commander. However, outside signals were blocking me from activating the program until now. Your current location suggests that you are inside a building and have turned on a generator, allowing whatever was blocking me to falter long enough for my program to activate. I am now with you wherever you are."

"That is fucking handy, Yes Man." Courier was feeling much more pleased by the increasing chances of survival. "What all can you do from here?"

"As your Pipboy is not equipped for large scale operations, not much, Commander. I am able to read layouts that your Pipboy maps and offer you best routes and alternatives as well as any information I may possess regarding your surroundings. You are currently in the Sierra Madre Casino, lower levels, near the kitchens. Readings indicate a gas leak that must be dealt with immediately."

"So no firing weapons."

"No, Commander. Anything that causes a single spark will cause a massive explosive."

"Thank you, Yes Man."

"You're welcome, Commander."

"River," John began slowly, meeting her gaze. "is that… what is that?"

"My A.I."

"From… that day?"

She knew instantly what he meant, the day she and he had overthrown Mr. House and simply nodded.

Taker had no idea what they were talking about and was curious to the point of annoyance but knew asking wasn't going to get him any information. Neither trusted him, obviously. Not that he would trust himself either if he was in their shoes, they were all enemies. He had caught the A.I. part and wondered how she had managed to get her hands on THAT kind of technology. The last A.I. that he knew of was President Eden, who had been destroyed in some kind of terrorist attack back in D.C. . "How'd you get an A.I.?"

"None of your business, suffice to say I have one."

"You are aware that they're dangerous, right?"

"I am only dangerous so far as my initial programming allows." Yes Man interrupted in his annoyingly cheerful manner. "The Commander has restricted or reprogrammed any part of my programming that would allow me to do anything against her or her orders. In her own terms, I am a "one woman A.I.", is that not correct, Commander?"

"Damn straight."

**~!~**

"God's up there." John announced, scurrying back down the narrow hallway to where Courier and Taker waited, pulling the bandana the other man had loaned him off of his face and took a breath of air that wasn't completely gas. "Or Dog, it sounds like both of them, he's not stable."

"Who is God?"

"A Nightkin, with a split personality disorder."

"Unsurprising." Taker waved a hand dismissively. "We'll have to eliminate him."

"He's not THAT kind of Nightkin." Courier said, her feathers ruffled, figuratively speaking. "He's helped us, sort of. We resolve this peacefully."

"Be my guest."

"River, no!" John hissed when she got up and headed down the hallway, shooting Taker a dark look. "You're going to get her killed, is that what you want?"

"Eventually, yes."

**~!~**

She had no idea what she had done besides talk, but somehow, Courier had… merged… the personalities of God and Dog together, making someone entirely new. Someone who wasn't unreasonable or criminally insane. She actually liked this new personality better, though he had no idea who she was other than some 'vague memories' and he 'knew she was a friend', she'd take it. Leaving G/Dog to his own devices –healing and moving on- she fixed the gas leak issue and went back to Taker and John, half-expecting to find them in the process of killing each other.

She had no idea what she had done besides talk, but somehow, Courier had… merged… the personalities of God and Dog together, making someone entirely new. Someone who wasn't unreasonable or criminally insane. She actually liked this new personality better, though he had no idea who she was other than some 'vague memories' and he 'knew she was a friend', she'd take it. Leaving G/Dog to his own devices –healing and moving on- she fixed the gas leak issue and went back to Taker and John, half-expecting to find them in the process of killing each other.

They were murdering each other with their eyes.

"Alright, enough, we have to get to the Tampico and deal with Dean."

John groaned, standing upright and glancing down towards the kitchen, no longer hearing the speaking of Dog. "Everything handled?"

"Peachy, everything is fine and I finished up down here. Now we have to-"

"Deal with that fuckin' ghoul."


	36. Deal with the Devil

**36: Deal with the Devil**

"THAT FUCKING GHOUL! I WILL SLIT HIS ROTTING THROAT!"

John threw Courier onto the floor of the Tampico Theater just as a flash of red laser shot overhead, grunting when she shoved him off of her. They had made it to the Tampico, gone to grab the sheet music to a Vera Keye's song and Dean had appeared overhead on the gantry, with said sheet music in hand. Apparently the ghoul had been a bit pissed that they hadn't been catering to him because he had refused to unlock the backstage wings and activated the holographic security.

'Taker was also on his belly, crawling over to them and peered over an upturned chair, cursing when he seen the holographic guard approaching slowly. "Where's the shut off box?"

"Fuck if I know, go look." John ordered, shooting the other man a look.

"Behind the bar." Courier pointed, her eyes narrowing in on the tiny box that would deactivate the holograms. She took aim and fired a series of rounds into it, cursing when nothing happened. "Fuck, we'll need to find the terminal!"

"We're going to have to split up." John said, rolling out of the way as the guard approached and began firing, letting out his own string of curses when a shot went straight through his right arm, dropping his sniper rifle instantly.

Rolling his eyes, 'Taker scrambled to his feet and literally tossed the ex-NCR solider over his shoulder, running to dive over the bar counter and if John's head wound up knocking over some of the glass liquor bottles, well… it didn't overly bother him. He looked up when Courier came sliding after him, snagging whiskey on her way and quickly began opening it. "Look, you stay here and bandage him up, 'Taker. I'll make my way backstage and get that disc."

"What the hell do we need it for anyway?"

"Elijah wants it."

"Well fuck Elijah." 'Taker reached out to grab her collar, dragging her towards him and examined it. "I could probably-"

"I don't think so, I'm not giving you the satisfaction of being the one to kill me. I'm quicker and lighter on my feet, I'll go backstage. Will you watch him?" She demanded, finishing pouring the whiskey over John's wound, not surprised that he had passed out. It was a clean hole, but a hole and he wouldn't be using that arm for quite some time. If they didn't get him medical help, he might actually lose use of it altogether. "I need to know I can trust you."

'Taker watched as she injected a Stimpak into John's throat, looking down at his bloodstained hands and put them to use, applying pressure to John's shoulder front and the back of. "What's in it for me?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She hissed, peering over the top of the bar to check where the hologram guard was, not surprised that it had returned to its post. The things were deadly but thankfully only as smart as they were programmed to be. If they had been A.I. she would have been fucked. "This is not the time for negotiating."

"Sure it is. If you want something from me, then I want something from you, River." He said in a very reasonable tone of voice, his green eyes glittering wickedly.

"What?"

"What do you think?"

"A fight? We can scrap right now if you like, but when I beat you again-" She swallowed those words when he gripped her collar, hearing it beeping faster.

"This thing thinks it's being tampered with. I bet I can run before it explodes." He said softly, not liking the reminder that she had tried to kill him and only sheer luck had saved his ass. Luck and being able to swim. "We will fight, River, one of these days we're going to have us a little stand-off, and that time, one of us will go down permanently, but today ain't that day."

"I'm not fucking you, 'Taker."

"Why? Afraid you'll like it? You know damn well I'm the best you'll ever have, even better than that doctor you've taken up with, or soldier boy here." He was enjoying himself, letting go of her collar, not surprised when she automatically held her gun directly to his temple. "You do that and you'll never get out of this deathtrap, not with him down like this. You. Need. Me."

"Commander, Mr. Undertaker is correct." Yes Man said from her Pip-boy. "I have calculated your chances of survival with Mr. Cena down and you have less than a 20% chance of succeeding."

"What was it before Cena dropped?"

"40%, Commander, and that is with the Undertaker in the equation. If you like, I can remove him and-"

"No. Don't." She glared at 'Taker, wondering if he was serious and knew he was. The only two things they ever had in common and were good at together was fighting and fucking, it made sense he wanted them both, on his own terms.

"I can leave, there's nothing stopping me from getting the fuck out of here. I'm just here for the ride."

"It is the logical thing to do, Commander, unless of course, you find him unattractive? I would then recommend closing your eyes and fantasizing."

Courier smirked at the look on 'Taker's face, gleaning a small bit of satisfaction from Yes Man. "Thank you for the suggestion, I'll take it under advisement."

"Certainly, Commander, that's what I'm here for!"

He stared intently at her, the corners of his mouth turning upward into a smirk when Courier finally just nodded. "Good girl, you always did make the rational choices."

"Fuck you."

"As soon as those holograms are out of the way, then I'll fuck you." He growled, his hand burying itself in her hair and dragged her across the paper littered floor until they were face to face. "I'll fuck you so hard you'll forget your goddamn name, again."

She slapped him.

Laughing, he let her go.

**~!~**

"The terminal to deactivate the holograms is to your immediate left."

Following Yes Man's instructions, Courier instantly turned, unsurprised to see the terminal. She began hacking through the network, with the A.I.'s assistance, and then began transferring the data from the terminal to her Pip-boy, sending it back to New Vegas.

"Commander, I can start work on holograms here in the laboratory beneath the casino. Have you been down there? The equipment was ahead of its time."

"I've seen it. Don't activate anything until I return."

"Yes, Commander. Also, Doctor Michaels is trying to access the elevator up here, do I deny access?"

She blinked in surprise, wondering what Shawn was doing back in New Vegas so soon, and then began doing the math in her head. She and John had been gone for roughly three weeks already, and checked her Pip-boy log for the date, cursing herself for not realizing she could keep track of time this way sooner. "Let him up, but don't let him anywhere but to your platform, I don't want him snooping."

"Yes, Commander."

"Yes Man?"

"Yes?"

"Don't hurt him."

**~!~**

What the hell had Katy done, Shawn wondered as he was escorted down the marble stairs from the elevator to the lower floor of the penthouse, his eyes narrowing as he took in the extremely posh surroundings. This must be Mr. House's room, and he wondered if he would finally get to see the reclusive bastard.

"Hello, Doctor Michaels, it is so good to finally meet you."

Shawn nearly had a heart attack, looking around for that quite annoying cheerful voice, frowning when he seen the monitor, larger than anything he could imagine, and the beaming face staring down at him. Face was too kind, this thing was just a set of eyes and a smile on a screen. "Mr. House…?"

"I'm Yes Man, the Commander's personal A.I."

"Where's House?"

"I am not authorized to tell you, Doctor, sorry."

"Who's the commander?"

"The woman you know best as Courier."

"Katy is a Commander?"

"Katy, alias given to her by you, also known as the Courier. Courier being her old job. Also known as River Brooks, her birth name and then followed by River Colon, her married name. Courier, Katy, River Brooks, River Colon: also a former commander in the NCR army though her given rank was Chief, which is inaccurate. She ordered several units of men, including sniper units, ground troops, and a special tactical force."

He knew all this already, mostly, and hearing it again was making his head spin. "Do you know where she is?"

"I- Please hold, incoming transmission."

"Shawn? Shawn, are you there?"

He let out a sigh of relief when he heard Katy's voice, even if it did sound tinny and faraway. He had just gotten back to Goodsprings with the caravan and had this… feeling, and it had been a bad feeling. Knowing it had something to do with the woman who was for some ungodly reason stealing his heart, he had left Sunny Smiles to deal with the goods and headed back for New Vegas. By himself it hadn't taken very long, though each step closer to the city of sin made the feeling worse, like he was going in the wrong direction. "Honey, where are you?"

"Sierre Madre."

It took him several minutes to process that, the background noise of her breathing and cursing flickering in and out of his head. "It doesn't exist."

"Tell you what, you come visit me and we'll discuss it then. Until that moment, I say it exists and I sure as hell do not recommend it as a vacation spot, this casino gets half a star as far as I'm concerned."

"You're… in the Sierra Madre? What's it like?"

"Dangerous. There this red gas, cloud like shit that poisons everything, it's mutated regular humans into some kind of fucked up thing… they're quiet, smart and really keen on propane tanks and hooks. Look, I'll give you the coordinates for where I'm at, but I do NOT want you venturing down here, I want you to remain topside and wait for us to come out. You'll need to wait for Jeff though, and I'll have Yes Man send security with you."

"Commander, at this exact moment, sending out the Securitrons wouldn't be advisable, unless you want to give up the element of surprise?"

"Fuck… well, David then, he'll loan you some Chairmen to bring out, some of them are former Khans that were integrated into that tribe. Or maybe some of your Apocalypse folks."

"Is someone hurt?"

"John is, badly. Once he's topside, he's going to need immediate medical attention and I don't have the time to haul him back there. I know there used to be an NCR camp around this area but they might've moved and I don't trust the NCR anyway."

"You don't have time? If he's hurt that bad, you need to leave now and meet-"

"Can't leave, not yet. It's a long story."

"Where's John now? You can describe his condition and-"

"Can't do that either. Hold on. COME OUT DEAN, LET ME BLOW YOUR GODDAMN FACE IN!"

"Catch me first, cunt!"

"We're trapped here. Trying to get out." She was breathing heavily and Shawn surmised she was running, chasing after whoever this Dean was. He flinched when he heard more gunfire. "He's with 'Taker."

"WHAT?"

"Don't ask." More gunfire. "I got you now, you traitorous bastard!"

"No, don't, we can-" Dean was shut up and Shawn waited impatiently for the next burst of shots to end.

"Look, it's complicated. I don't like him being here anymore than you obviously do, but I can't send him packing either. He's got his uses, sadly."

"Why is he there?"

"Sick fuck has been following me." Courier's voice grew louder over the frequency. "Holograms are down, Dean is down. Theater has been secured."

"Why can't you get out there?"

"Because if I try, this explosive collar some sick former Brotherhood of Steel member put on me, will go boom, and so will I."

"What's he want?"

"No idea, but you've heard the legend of the treasure here I'm sure, so I'm guessing that." She sounded sad when she spoke again. "I don't want to be here Shawn, I'm actually afraid we're not going to make it out and everything seems to be getting harder… even if we do find whatever Elijah's looking for… he's not going to just let us walk away."


	37. Paying The Reaper

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay, RL tends to hate fan fiction writers, or maybe it's just me :) This is the end of the Sierra Madre portion of this story, or at least, near the end, we'll be heading back to the Mojave and Caesar/Randy real soon :) It is also the end of any chance of this story turning out Courier/Taker, sorry to anyone who was rooting for that couple. In an unrelated to This Is War vein: anyone who read Scars and/or Scar Tissue and was a Mark/Briar supporter, there is a one-shot Mark/Briar ficlet on Disenchanted (link in my profile) set before Scars takes place. Just in case you're interested ;)**  
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**37: Paying The Reaper**

Courier had stepped out into the auditorium and made for the rows of gilt chairs, sinking down into one, feeling weariness creeping back into her bones. "He's not going to just let us walk away."

"Honey, I-" Shawn didn't seem to know what to say, and she could hear his concern even through her Pip-boys speakers, smiling slightly. She really wished she was there with him right, but knew that was something she couldn't have, not yet. As much as she cared for him, there were things that simply had to be done, a game that had to be played out and too much at stake for her to not play it.

"Congratulations, you're alive."

She stiffened, looking up from the black and green screen of her mini-computer to find 'Taker standing directly in front of her. "How's John?"

"Breathing. I packed the hole with some cloth, soaked it in whiskey to ward off infection. You and I had a deal."

"Deal's off."

"I don't think so, River."

"I do. I'm not having sex with you. Ever. Again. Understand?"

He kicked her right in the knee, smirking when she hunched over in her chair to clutch it and then grabbed a handful of her hair, dragging her towards the stage. "I upheld my end of the bargain and didn't kill that NCR trash, now it's your turn, time to pay the reaper."

Courier let out a grunt of pain when her upper back collided with the edge of the stage, bringing both legs up –and fighting back a whimper of pain in her left knee- to push him away. She rolled over onto her stomach and began crawling across the stage, pushing herself up to her feet only to wind up face down again, letting out a shriek of pain as pain exploded throughout her face.

"Changed my mind, I do want to fight you. And then I'll fuck you." He snarled, flipping her over and straddling her thighs, pinning her hands down on the wood stage flooring, aware of how deadly she could be when turned loose. He would know better than anyone, he had fought with her and nearly been killed by her a time or two over the course of the past ten years. Bringing his face down to hers, he bashed his forehead against her nose, instantly rewarded with a spurt of blood. "THAT is for trying to fucking kill me."

Tears and blood were streaming down and off the sides of her face, pain shooting through her skull and upward from her knee.

He next bit down on her lip, hard enough to make her squeal in his mouth, spitting blood when he pulled away. "THAT is for the last time we encountered each other before you lost your memory."

She remembered that plain as day. She had been on a cliff, staring down into the Mojave, knowing he was lurking nearby and sure enough, he had shown. She had confessed to once upon a time loving him, he had laughed at her, they had tried their best to hurt each other physically and emotionally, and when they had parted, she had warned him the next time they met, she would kill him.

She was definitely regretting not sticking to that the minute she had seen him at the fountain.

"I will never understand why you kept taking up with me, River." He said conversationally, pulling her dagger from the makeshift sheath at her side, using it to begin slicing off her pants, not about to free her legs until he had too. "You knew what a sick bastard I was then, hell, I was your enemy, you should have shot me on sight."

"I should've." She agreed, her voice coming out all wrong due to the broken nose and snorted, instantly regretting it as more waves of agony took over what had once been her face.

"But you didn't. Instead you snuck off to fuck me whenever you knew I was around, couldn't keep your pussy in check, could you? Bet you can't now." 'Taker leered, lifting himself enough to remove away the portion of her pants he had cut away, revealing nothing underneath except for her.

**~!~**

John was in sheer agony, and it wasn't helped by the screams that echoed around the theater. Groggily, he pulled himself up into a sitting position, his lips curling back from his teeth in a grimace of pain and leaned against the wood counter behind him, noting his position. Behind the bar. Gingerly, he prodded the place he had been shot, feeling packaging stuffed into the wound and flexed his arm, letting out a soft hiss.

Another scream sounded, and he frowned, turning to grip the edge of the counter and slowly pulled himself up. He had no memory of being back here, or any idea what had happened since let alone how much time had passed. He was assuming since he was alone, both Courier and 'Taker were dead, or clearing the place out.

What he saw on stage told him neither of those things was true, and he automatically reached for his sniper. He couldn't hold it and dropped it, instead going for his pistol.

**~!~**

"No, goddamn it, no!" Courier had freed her hands and was using them to inflict as much damage on 'Taker as possibly, trying to nail one good punch in his throat with every intention of killing him. She let out another scream of rage when he shoved her legs a part, feeling like she had just done the splits inadvertently, which hurt.

"KATY!"

Her mind was sent reeling, realizing Shawn was still on the communicator, and could hear everything, no doubt hearing what was going on between her and her attacker. "No, Yes Man, end-" She let another agonizing scream escape her mouth right before falling silent as nothing but pain took over. Taker had grabbed her by the nose, which was broken, and she could feel unconsciousness creeping in.

"Got loverboy on the line, do we?" He snarled, his venomous eyes moving to her Pipboy. "Hey Doc, you hear me, son?"

"I will KILL YOU!"

"How very unprofessional, doctor."

**~!~**

Shawn was turning green with every passing second as he listened to what was transpiring somewhere across the Mojave, underground. He couldn't hear Katy anymore, just the taunts of the Undertaker, and animalistic noises that made his stomach turn.

"Good goddamn doc, you must not be packin' much because she's still a tight lil- SON OF A BITCH!"

"THROW ME THE GUN, JOHN!"

That was Katy, she had come around finally and he let out a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding. He heard gunshots, more of them, followed by cursing and the shuffling noises of movement. "Katy?"

"I'm here…" She groaned, letting out a raspy cough, her voice sounding thick.

"I missed." John said, sounding apologetic. "My arm… I-"

"It's okay, I think you clipped him. Shawn, I have to go."

"No, no, don't you dare, Katy. Tell me what's-" Shawn frowned when Yes Man's screen went blank. "God damn it!"

**~!~**

John looked around the stage, his eyes landing on the sprinkles of blood that Taker had left behind and smiled grimly. He had definitely gotten the man, though he was still alive, John's aim had been off. Because of his arm, which made him frown, knowing that the botched shot would come back to haunt them. A pissed off, injured Undertaker was an even worse concept than the regular, insane version.

Finally, reluctantly, he turned back to the Courier, who was now getting to her feet, his eyes dropping to the stage floor and felt anger yet again pricking the back of his neck at the sight of her tattered leather pants around her feet. "I'll get you something from the-"

"Don't you dare leave me here alone." Courier said coldly under her breath, reaching out to grab his wrist in a painfully tight grip. "I need you to set my nose, John."

John did not like that idea and it showed plainly on his face. "You'll black out again." He cautioned, seeing the resolve in her eyes and knew he was going to do it. Sighing, he stepped forward and reached out awkwardly with his left hand. A second later, he was catching her with that arm, lowering her to the floor as gently as he could.

While she was out, he headed back to the bar to grab their gear and then returned to her. Somehow, he managed to redress her, fumbling with his right hand and arm, wincing with every move. They couldn't remain here, it was too open here. They could wind up picked off by the Undertaker or even Ghost People. They had been trying to get into the Sierra Madre, he knew that the gates wouldn't hold them forever.

They were running on borrowed time.

**~!~**

Getting down to this vault hadn't been easy… in fact, Courier and John were both planning on sleeping for a month if they made it out alive. They had navigated to the top floor of the casino, where they had found more Holograms and Christine, who had been ready to blow all of them to hell and back for some… very messed up reason.

It had been John who had talked her out of it and John who had gotten the key from her. The key that led them down into a level beneath the casino. From there they had to work their way through what was basically a maze of rooms, holograms and very narrow catwalks. With John's right arm out of commission, he had a very hard time keeping his balance and she was running purely on adrenaline at this point.

Courier glanced at him, looking none to worse for wear with her swollen and bruised face, and he had been politely ignoring the fact that she was walking a little odd, though that had in no way hindered her movements. She was forcing herself to move, just like he was trying to force himself to not clutch his arm in agony.

Nodding once, she took hold of the vault lever and opened it, both their eyes widening at the sight before them.

Gold, a lot of gold. There were bars stacked everywhere, more than they could ever want, and… Courier stopped herself when she realized she was gravitating towards the gold, reaching out to gently stop John. "We can't."

His blue eyes widened for a moment before he let out a resigned sigh. "Too heavy to carry and I'm…" He gave a slight wiggle of his ruined arm.

"That's one of the reasons. This is part of the problem with this hellhole though, everyone thinks there's a treasure here and they're right. Do you have any idea the amount of trouble this gold would cause us? Even if we could find someone to sell it too at a proper price, we'd still be watching our asses for life."

"More than we are now?" He suggested wryly, unable to help himself.

"Something like that."

John and Courier both whirled around when the vault door shut itself, exchanging looks.

"That is not good."

Courier shook her head, obviously agreeing with him and approached the terminal near the far wall. She began flicking through the various files. After reading through several of them, she began paling but at the same time also inwardly sent a silent prayer of thanks that she had started off with the file marked Vera first, or else they would have wound up dead down here.

John read everything over her shoulder. "Don't open the personal accounts folder."

"No shit?"

He ignored the sarcasm, turning to look around the vault again. "Now what?"


	38. Face to Face

**A/N:** Thanks guys for the reviews, and for being so patient with me! For everyone who has been waiting on more Randy, well, here we go. As for Shane, he's coming up in the next chapter :) Revenge time quickly approaches, promise!

**38 : Face to Face**

Ted DiBiase, or Vulpes, depending on where he was and who he was surrounded by, watched impassively as the Courier approached the winding path towards the docks slowly. It had been over a month since he had extended Caesar's invitation to Fortification Hill, more than two months actually.

He knew she had been busy, he was aware of her recent activities such as taking out the Omertas and running errands for House, minus a disappearance that had lasted over a week. Caesar had kept tabs on the woman once known as River Brooks, Desert Ranger, ever since encountering her in battle all those years ago.

It had been Caesar who had pieced together that Brooks was the Courier. Ted had no idea just why the man formerly known as Randy Orton cared about this woman outside of her rather astonishing abilities but it wasn't his place to question it. He merely followed orders and offered counsel when prudent.

His narrowed eyes took her in as she walked onto the dock. She looked much different than when he had seen her in New Vegas. She was leaner and a bit more muscled. She also looked more tired and worn, fading bruises covering the left side of her face and a healing cut that ran from above her right eyebrow right down past her eye promising to be an interesting scar. When he had seen her in Vegas, he had noted the spider webbed scar on her forehead, knowing that to be from a bullet meant to take her out permanently. The way she seemed to be going, she would be covered in them, and given her history, he didn't doubt she had more beneath the leathers she wore.

He would never admit to admiring those scars. In the Legion, scars were a mark of pride. They announced how many battles the bearer had fought and won, scars were considered badges. For a woman to have so many of them, and he knew they were all from battles, was unusual.

"You are injured." He said flatly when she was face to face with him, taking in the way she carried herself. Stiffly, like she was trying not to jostle anything.

"Take me to him."

~!~

Injured was an understatement. Somehow, she and John had managed to escape the Sierra Madre but barely. Father Elijah, a fucking Brotherhood of Steel leader apparently, had double crossed them as expected. When he discovered they weren't likely to just lie down and die, not to mention trap him there in the vault, he had brought the entire casino crashing down around them. Literally.

She and John had just barely managed to make it out of there, and they both had taken more than their fair share of injuries from the debris. With the destruction of the casino and all Elijah's equipment, their collars had died and they were able to remove them. From there it was simply a matter of getting the fuck out of dodge.

Once in the bunker, Courier had radioed for help. Yes Man had assured her that Shawn, Jeff and some Chairmen were on their way. That had been enough for her. She had shit to do and wasn't waiting around, making sure John knew it.

John hadn't liked that one bit and actually tried going with her. But she had had time to think about it. He hated the Legion with a passion that overtook everything else. He was a liability when it came to this meeting. She had knocked his ass out cold and left him there.

Walking had been a trial. She had barely stopped long enough to tend her wounds when she was attacked by raiders. Dispatching them had taken more time and energy than she liked, and in the end, she had come out with a few new injuries.

Groaning, she slumped against the side of the boat she sat in, Ted across from her, three men on each side rowing. She closed her eyes, knowing she needed just a little rest, just… a… little…

~!~

"Don't move."

Courier tensed at a voice that was very familiar to her even though she hadn't heard it in years. She opened her eyes, frowning at the sight of white above her head. Closer inspection told her it wasn't pure white, but dirty white, and it was canvas. She was in a tent.

She was also laying in a bed, a real bed, and damn near felt guilty at reveling in that fact for a brief moment, knowing this wasn't her bed. Without moving, she assessed herself as best she could. She was naked and beneath a coarse, thick blanket. She could also feel bandages on various parts of her body as well as dried salve. Her face was practically covered in it.

She held her breath when Caesar filled her line of vision, turning her head to stare at him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing down at her out of icy, unreadable blue-gray eyes. Quick inventory of him showed that he was bare from the waist up, a broad expanse of tanned, scarred skin visible to her, and the lack of a shirt revealed a muscular torso and arms.

"We have no doctors here, such as the one you tend to travel with so my women have done the best they could." He informed her, his voice just as cold as his eyes. "And the healing will be slow, we do not use Med-X or other such drugs."

"My satchel… I have-"

"You belongings have been stored for now. While here, you will not carry a weapon nor your drugs."

Courier's eyes narrowed. "I'm a prisoner then?"

"I invited you here as my guest and it is my wish that you adhere to our ways for your stay."

Her upper lip curled into a sneer, letting him know exactly what she thought about that.

"The last time we met, you and I," He said slowly, not phased in the slightest with her silent threat as he leaned over her, placing one hand on her opposite side, bending down so their faces were inches apart. "I underestimated you."

Her eyes darkened at the memory. They had been fighting and she had gone to shoot him, only to be tackled from the side. She looked at his head, spotting a scar on his temple, a scar she had given him. A constant reminder that he had nearly died that day, because of a woman, no doubt that pissed him off. The only reason she hadn't finished the job was because 'Taker had shown up and carted her off.

"Since then, I have kept track of you to the best of my abilities. You have come far since those days with your Desert Rangers, River Brooks."

She swallowed down an insult, a bead of sweat running from her forehead down the side of her face until it hit the pillow.

"Then, at the Hoover Dam, you and your unit were instrumental in my defeat." He said, his teeth gnashing at the memory. "However, you lost something that day as well. Your husband, I believe."

"Mention my husband ever again, and I will finish what I started." She promised in a deadly whisper.

"I believe you would try."

"There is no trying about it."

He smiled a humorless smile. "Your path of destruction since using the alias of 'Courier' has been… interesting to watch, to say the least. Have you found your prey?"

"We've met."

"Indeed."

He needed to get out of her immediate space before she did something incredibly stupid, like try murdering him. She could never forget that this man had purposefully killed Evan Bourne in a very specific manner, a manner meant to taunt her. Even if she had agreed with his ideals and visions –which she did not- that fact alone was enough to make her hate him. Evan had been like a brother to her, he had been a surrogate after Phil had died in that first battle against the Legion, and this man had killed him to pass along a message.

As if reading her mind, he pushed himself up into a standing position, revealing that he was wearing… a skirt, no, it was… a toga, of sorts, though instead of wearing it up over his chest, he had merely draped it around his waist. She had seen this type of garment on Legion soldiers, though generally they also wore breastplates with the… unusual attire.

"You will rest until tonight, then I wish for you to dine with me and my counsel."

"I suppose I don't have any choice?"

"Remember, River Brooks, you are my guest. There is always a choice."

The way he said it informed her that if she made the wrong choice, her precarious guest status would change and simply nodded.

~!~

"I'm going to kill her." Shawn muttered as they approached the gates that led to the Vegas strip, ignoring the look Jeff shot him. They had found John, who had been unconscious but there had been no sign of Katy. He knew automatically that she had gone on, to meet with Caesar, and he honestly hated her for it.

The fool woman was going to get herself killed and he had no idea why. He doubted John, who was turning into the closest thing she had for a confidante, even knew what her true motives behind all the odd things she had been doing lately were.

She had been coerced into a dangerous task, nearly killed, raped, nearly killed some more, and instead of waiting for him like any other rational human being, she had taken off. Probably because she knew he would stop her.

Shawn was pretty sure that on some level, he loved Katy. Not loved as in IN love with her, not like he had his dead wife, but he knew the potential was there for it. But not if things didn't change, he simply couldn't handle this. He couldn't handle the constant danger, or the fact that she seemed to be seeking it out. Her desire for revenge against Shane had led her into something more sinister and instead of backing away she had dived in head first.

Within the hour, he had John in the Lucky 38, had sent word to David at the Tops that all debts were squared between him and Katy, and had gotten to work with Jeff to repair the soldier as best they could. He wasn't entirely sure if John would ever regain full, proper use of his arm again, but it was too soon to tell. They would know for sure once his rehabbing began.

Once John was settled in and properly doped up, he went to see Yes Man, only to hear more bad news.

"I am sorry, Doctor, but the Commander's signal has been disabled." The AI informed him, not sounding sorry but cheerful, which annoyed the piss out of Shawn but he also knew it wasn't anything personal but the damn thing's programming. "I have no way of locating or communicating with the Commander."

"Damn it!" Shawn cursed, raking a hand through his tousled locks, beginning to pace back and forth. "Do you even know what she's up too?"

"Yes."

"Can you tell me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Commander's orders."

Shawn gritted his teeth.


	39. Dining With Caesar

**A/N:** Just for those that may have forgotten, Randy is Caesar and I use both Randy and Caesar interchangeably.

**39: Dining with Caesar**

Courier soon discovered that she was not in just any tent but Caesar's tent, in his damn bed, and from the way the slave women who were now bathing her, they thought she was about to join their ranks. Not fucking likely.

"These injuries are healing quite well, miss."

She looked at the woman who had spoken, a woman with closely cropped black hair and a bruised face. She wore dirty rags that were held together with a type of coarse rope and Courier felt anger building in her. This was wrong. "I can do this myself." She said, trying to be gentle as she began the process of untangling this woman's hands from her own hair.

"No."

"But-"

"It will be worse for me if you do, just relax, please miss."

It was hard to relax though, especially knowing that this fate could potentially be hers. She had no idea if Caesar would uphold his word about her being safe, though she also knew damn well it was contingent on her agreeing to whatever it was he had invited her here for.

If not for the fact that she needed to actually get underneath Fortification Hill and into the bunker beneath it, she never would have come here. Well, maybe to get to Shane, maybe. Revenge was a sweet dish she didn't mind sampling but… walking right into the Legion's base was a bit extreme, even for her.

Sighing, she resigned herself to the grooming, frowning when her badly needing cut hair –it was now past her shoulders- was piled on top of her head, wincing when the slave woman used pins to hold it in place. She blinked when a mirror was placed in front of her, arching an eyebrow. "Um… it looks nice?" She said finally, having no idea what to expect. She knew this wasn't a common hairstyle; it looked… old, old, old school. Like… from the days Caesar was trying to rebuild, which were centuries ago.

She stood up when gestured too, hiding a wince as it stretched her aching ribs. She was quickly dressed in a toga, similar to the ones she had seen the men sporting, though hers fit her properly if a little too snugly. She fidgeted with the material that ran beneath her left arm, not liking the way it left her shoulder and upper arm exposed, not when women were viewed so poorly here. She would prefer her leathers and weapons, at least then they might view her as somewhat of a threat.

"There."

Courier snapped out of her thoughts and looked down to find a deep purple sash around her waist, drawing in the excess fabric and revealing more of her shape. She frowned, reaching down to adjust it only to find her hands being gently swatted away.

"No, miss, don't. Caesar won't like it." The woman kneeled down, reaching for a pair of sandals. She gestured for Courier to raise her foot, lacing the thin straps up her ankles before doing the other. "You are finished." She bowed her head, scooting backwards out of the way and motioned towards the tent door.

Taking that as her cue that it was time to officially make her appearance, Courier raised her head and walked, she was hoping gracefully, outside. She did not want to make a good impression so much as give the impression that she was not afraid.

The fading sunlight caused her to blink and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust, having grown used to the dim candlelight in the tent once evening had begun its descent. Once she had regained her proper vision, she looked around, hiding a frown. They were at the top of a hill, the tent she emerged from was definitely Caesar's, it was positioned right in the center of a cluster of smaller tents. This was not only a position of honor but also the best place to be defensively.

At her feet was a small trail, winding down and around the hill, lit by small lanterns set on either side of the path. Wiping the frown from her face, she followed it. She was aware of the guards that stood off, with their large, hounds at their sides, watching her impassively and felt the need to reach for a weapon that she didn't carry.

As she progressed, she could see other men who weren't on duty, though all were busy with one thing or the other, some halting to stare at her as she passed, openly staring with cruel eyes and leers. Her heart broke at the sight of the women… all of them resembled the slave who had attended her. Their hair, unlike her own, had been shorn close to their heads and all of them wore the same nondescript, ragged clothing, and their feet bare on the harsh rocky ground. It was obvious women were considered little more than beasts of burden and that lit a pretty hot fire under her ass.

Most of the women were carrying heavy baskets, made from what looked like rushes woven together, their backs bent under their loads. Some of the women were obviously pregnant and that just intensified her anger. Pack mules and stock for breeding, that was all they were here.

"You are near late."

She halted, realizing that DiBiase, or Vulpes, was standing right in front of her. He had abandoned his suit and hat for his traditional, Legion wear, minus the headgear. She didn't say a word, just stared at him as coolly as he was staring at her.

"Caesar is expecting you."

She merely nodded.

He stepped aside, gesturing her forward towards what looked to be a small building minus a roof, constructed out of the same coarse material all the tents were made of, only this one was also reinforced with log walls. She had to pass more guards, ignoring their knowing smiles as she ducked through a crudely made door.

Inside the 'building' she instantly noticed a long wooden table with backless chairs seated around it. At the head of the table, on a slightly raised platform sat Caesar, who was now staring at her intently out of unreadable eyes. What she assumed to be his council sat with him at the table, though there were two empty spots to his immediate left and right, one she was assuming was meant for her.

At the four corners of the table stood posts, torches lit at the peak, prepared for the oncoming darkness. She heard whimpering to her right, turning her head and automatically took a step forward.

Caesar was at her side before she had even noticed he had moved from his seat, wrapping his fingers firmly around her bare upper arm to keep her from approaching his prisoner. "I meant him to be a gift." He said in his cold, flat voice. "For you."

Shane McMahon, the motherfucker who had tried to kill her for no reason other than a damn Platinum Chip, was on his knees before her, tied securely between two poles with rope on his wrists which were behind his back and around his neck. He looked much, much worse than the last time she had seen him. She had whipped his ass back in the Tops before Shawn had stopped her –she was seeing a pattern of men stopping her from killing other men- but that paled to the sight before her.

His hair was completely disheveled, soaked with sweat and dried blood. More dried blood crusted his swollen and bruised face and he was without his shirt, lash marks evident along his pale skin, standing out lividly.

She found herself smiling in pure pleasure at the welcomed sight.

Something that Randy did not miss as he was watching her closely. He knew she was kindred spirit, she enjoyed the sight of her enemies pain and found joy in it. He also knew she considered him to be her enemy, for now. If Mars favored him that would all change. "He is yours, to do with as you please."

She stared at Shane a moment longer before turning to face Caesar, studying him intently. "He had something of mine on him."

"It is now mine."

She frowned.

"We will discuss this chip and its purpose while we dine." He turned her, steering her back towards the table. "You may decide his fate over the course of the meal as well."

She had been right, she was seated right next to him, a head lower than he due to his little stage, and it was all Courier could do to not explode on the men who were openly staring at her. The only credit she could give them was the fact that they were not staring at her like she was a future piece of stock but something… else. It wasn't admiration or respect, but it wasn't condescending either. She figured they were all withholding judgment based on Caesar's own final opinion.

She was hardly hungry, her appetite disappearing completely when she seen the slave women serving them, knowing whose hands had prepared this meal. Her eyes strayed to Shane as she reached for her glass of water, purposefully ignoring the speculative looks she was receiving.

Randy felt no such issues himself and was freely helping himself to the food, eating heartily as he watched her. "Eat something." He ordered, reaching for a raven leg, ripping it away from the cooked bird and dropping it on her plate. "You will start with that."

"I am not hungry."

"I insist."

Frowning, she bit hesitantly into the bird, hating it that it did taste so good, reflagging her appetite just a bit. When clear juices dribbled down her chin, she automatically reached up to wipe it away, hesitating when a linen napkin, something she had seen before but never bothered using, was held in front of her face.

"Contrary to what you think and have heard, we are not savages."

Apparently what he found to be savage and what the rest of the world considered savage were at odds, she said nothing.

Quiet reigned for most of the meal, except the sounds of eating, silverware scraping the plates and an occasional question or comment from one of the other men. Courier picked at her food, eating a few bites, mostly whenever Caesar would look at her.

"Leave us." Randy ordered when he had cleared his second plate, giving each of his generals a look and nodded when Vulpes glanced pointedly at the Courier. He knew what his Frumentarri was thinking and smirked at the thought. He would welcome another fight with this woman. The last time they had been interrupted and she had been an entirely different person then. The person she was today would provide a more worthy challenge. It wasn't his intention to battle with her, not yet at least.

The moment they were alone –and neither was counting Shane's presence- Courier stood up and walked around the length of the table, putting that between them. "Now that you've wined and dined me, what next?" She demanded, her deep blue eyes narrowing as he began circling the table, automatically moving to keep on his opposite side.

"You are truly remarkable, for a woman. Pity you were not born a man, the advantages your skill would bring me…"

"Perhaps if I had been a man, I wouldn't have kicked your ass twice." She tossed back, unable to keep her mouth under control. She no longer had him looming directly over her and she was feeling a bit better. She wasn't in tip top condition, but she wasn't about to keel over and die either.

"Perhaps." He agreed, tiring of this game of keep-away and jumped onto the table, his sandals making little noise on the wood as he crossed over to her.

Courier growled when he grabbed hold of her by the hair, yanking her up hard enough to pull her up onto the table with him, destroying the hair style the slave woman had painstakingly put it up in. On her way up, she snatched one of the dull knives.

Randy had spotted the flash of silver, letting go of her hair in order to grip her wrist when she was stupid enough to try stabbing him. "You are fast losing your precarious status as my guest, River." He cautioned, disarming her with one flick of his own wrist. "One more violent outburst from you and I will be forced to show you my ugly side."

It was that warning that pierced her, reminding her of why she was here in the first place and she simply nodded, trying to uncoil from the fighting stance she had assumed. She stood there, feeling his hold on her wrist loosening until she was able to bring it up to her chest, rubbing the soreness from it.

"Are you prepared to speak civilly with me?"

She nodded.

"When I ask you a question, I expect a proper answer. You are not mute, so use your tongue."

Courier damn near stuck it out at him, knowing he would definitely not appreciate that childish gesture and managed to grunt out a yes.

"Good." He stepped back from her, gracefully dropping to the ground before extending his hand to her. "Now let's talk, shall we?"

Mentally kicking herself in the ass for coming here, Courier took his hand.


	40. Render Unto Caesar

**A/N:**It's been a month since my last update for TIW, my bad! I got distracted with Batman and Skyrim :( That and my muses changed a bit as I am now writing both a Batman and Skyrim fan fic, fickle muses... So here is chapter 40 and two things regarding TIW. 1) This month marks a year since the first chapter was posted, it is taking FOREVER to write it, lol. 2) Time For Miracles ended at 40 chapters, I still have no idea when this will end. I do know that after reviewing the timeline and game quests, I will not be including all of them in this, thinking I'll be saving those for down the road... Enjoy!

**40: Render Unto Caesar**

Randy guided Courier back towards their chairs, even pulling hers out for her and then pushing her back towards the table. He settled himself in a chair besides her, not bothering with his own on the raised platform.

Courier stared intently at him, now eye-level with him, wondering if he mentally recognized her as his equal or if this was just another intimidation tactic. Either way, she said nothing, merely returned the look he was giving her.

"I believe… we were to discuss this." He said finally, reaching down to a leather pouch at his waist and withdrew the Platinum Chip. He held it out towards her.

Courier reached for it hesitantly. This was the thing that had gotten her shot in the head, this damn little chip was the reason she should have been dead, and she still had only a vague idea of what it was for. According to Yes Man, it was a memory device, capable of upgrading the Securitrons but only readable in two locations. For some reason, this location –Fortification Hill- had been the spot of choice for both the now deceased House and Yes Man.

Randy watched as she studied it, taking in the way she turned it over in her fingers gingerly. This woman had been through hell and back because of this little chip, it was rather amazing that she was still alive. Actually, considering what he knew, it was a miracle she was still alive. "You know what it does?"

"I have a vague idea."

"It'll get you inside the bunker, once there; I want you to destroy it."

"Destroy it?" She repeated, blinking back surprise.

"Destroy it." He repeated grimly. "I do not know or care what House has hidden beneath there, I just want it gone." Anything that had to do with House, who was seated in the very place Randy planned on rebuilding his empire, had to go.

Not about to argue with him, she simply nodded, letting him think whatever he would.

His eyes bore into hers, searching for artifice and finally just returned the nod, standing up again. Reaching down, he was mildly surprised when Courier automatically slid her hand into his, allowing him to help her up. "Now, as to your present…"

Shane cowered when they both looked at him.

"You may do whatever you wish with him."

Courier cocked her head to the side, contemplating that. "Anything at all?"

"Yes."

Shane began actually crying when a smile spread across her face. It was a very cold, cruel smile and he knew he was going to die.

* * *

For the most part, Courier considered herself to be a relatively neutral, leaning towards good, person on the morality scale. She did things without flinching if they were necessary, but if given the option, she generally tried not to do things that would stain her already darkened soul.

However… the man before her was the exception. Shane had tried murdering her simply for a fucking chip. He had gotten the chip, it wouldn't have been anything for him to let her go, and it wasn't like she knew anything about it anyway, at least not at the time. But he hadn't. He had 'killed' her. He had cost her a lot of memories for a while and that compounded with the attempted murder… well, she had taken that a bit personally.

So when it came to Shane, she was firmly camped in the 'fucking evil' slot on the morality scale and she didn't feel a moment's hesitation or regret. Of course, she would never be able to tell Shawn about this because he would totally renounce her. Hell, Melina and John might too, this was a bit extreme.

But it made her happy. She admitted it, right now, staring at the slowly dying man, she had the warm and fuzzies.

Caesar was standing beside her, staring down at her, apparently enjoying the savageness she had exhibited but she didn't care. He could stare at her until he was blue in the face. This was a moment she had been waiting for a long time now.

At her request, Caesar had had Shane crucified.

Courier had seen people on the crosses before, in towns where the Legion had sacked. Nipton, for example, and she knew just how slow and painful a death it was. In Nipton, it had been Melina's sense of mercy that had led her to shooting the poor dying men, giving them a quick death.

There would be none of that today.

Shane let out another agonized moan of pain, his bloody and sweat soaked head hanging downwards as he tried drawing in shallow breaths.

No, no mercy at all.

* * *

"Commander, it is good to see you, in one piece no less!"

It was not surprising to find Yes Man on the large screen in the underground vault. Courier felt much more like herself down here, mostly due to the fact that Caesar had allowed her to have her equipment back on the grounds that she had no idea what to expect down here.

"Always good to be seen."

"You cut off communications for a while; your companions have been worried about you. Doctor Michaels sits here with me quite a bit, waiting for an update. Shall I tell him you are fine?"

"Yes. So, what am I doing down here?"

"You are going to upgrade our security."

Courier arched an eyebrow, that much she had already known. "Tell me something new, Yes Man."

"Alright Commander, I think you will like this…"

* * *

"You have done well." Randy said when Courier was close enough to hear him. He had been standing at the top of the hill, outside his personal quarters, watching the vault. When he had felt vibrations beneath him, coming from the underground, he knew she had done what he commanded. "There is hope for you yet, River."

She just stared at him.

"Now, you will return your gear."

"I don't think so."

He tilted his head to the side, studying her shrewdly. "I do not permit outsider items in my camp. The only reason you had them back was to complete you mission. You WILL remove all your clothes, turn in your weapons and drugs, or you will die. Understand?"

Gritting her teeth, she simply nodded.

"Now."

"What? Right here?" Courier looked around, noticing that she was slowly being surrounded by a few Legion members and slave women. One of those women were carrying the toga she had been going around in since arriving.

"Yes."

She cracked her neck before slinging down her satchel, hearing a few things jangling around inside and knew those would be her caps and Stimpaks bouncing off of each other. Next she unloaded her weapons. Her assault rifle, hunting dagger, pistol and a few other items were next, making a small pile at her feet.

Without her guns, she already felt half naked and inwardly sighed, kicking off her boots. Each article of clothing was shed and dropped to the ground until she stood there in nothing but her underclothes, refusing to remove the bra and panties.

Randy allowed it, busy surveying her nearly bare body anyway. He took in the rather fresh looking scar on her left thigh. Whatever had made that had been a deep wound and he crouched to get a better look. "This one?"

"Cleaver."

Nodding, he stood up and began circling her, pointing or touching various scars and demanding to know how she got them. Finally he stood face to face with her, tracing a finger down a scar that ran through her left eyebrow before looking at the faintly web shaped one on the right side of her forehead. "You are a beautiful woman." He said finally.

"Because of the scars?" She blurted out, wondering if he was insane. She knew that scars were honor badges among the Legion and she had more than her fair share. After giving it a moment's thought, she realized it wasn't totally insane, not at least by their way of thinking. All these scars meant she had fought a lot of battles and always come out the victor, which would be attractive to the Legion. Even if she was only a lowly woman.

"If only you were a man," He breathed, stepping away as the slave women approached to dress her, genuine sorrow in his voice. "The things we could accomplish together."

Now that was a bit insulting but she knew better than to show it.

"I suppose we could find other uses for you."

That she did not like the sound of, her deep blue eyes widening slightly. That sounded very bad and she sincerely hoped he wasn't about to regulate her to slave material and potential breeding stock. Every Legion story she had ever heard in the Rangers was coming back to haunt her. Her being a female had been a slight cause for alarm amongst her Ranger brothers whenever it came time to face the Legion, fear of what could happen to her because of her sex, a fate much worse than an honorable death fighting on the battlefield.

When he seen her eying the women apprehensively, a rather cruel and amused smirk spread across Randy's face and he did enjoy the sight of some genuine fear finally entering those eyes. "Not that, River." He chided condescendingly. "While you are not a man, you do have your uses, you have more to offer me than that of a mere slave."

That was a relief, but she also noted how he said 'me' instead of 'we' as he usually did. "Such as?"

"We'll discuss it tonight." He said after a long moment, closing his eyes and beginning to raise his hand up towards his head. He caught himself and stopped, looking down at her.

Courier was pretty sure she seen pain in those icy blue eyes, wondering just what the hell was wrong with him and how she could best exploit it.

* * *

Courier had been pacing her tent, feeling tired but unable to sleep. She could hear the revelry going on outside as the tent walls were literally cloth thin and hid nothing. She had no idea what they were celebrating but she was glad Caesar hadn't expected her to join in.

What was probably the real reason for her inability to sleep was the fact that she could hear the women. She could hear some of them crying, even a few squeals, and the men's lewd shouting. Some of the remarks these pig soldiers were making only fueled her budding anger. It was a damn feast with accompanying orgy out there; she would remain in the tent.

"Would you like to join us?"

Whirling around, she found Caesar standing at the entrance of the tent, peering through the flap at her. "No, thank you." She said with forced politeness, frowning when he pushed his way inside.

"Do you think about it?"

That was a bit vague. "About… what?" She asked softly, moving around the side of the bed, putting that in between them. The way he was moving, she associated it with stalking, he was literally stalking towards her in a very predatory fashion.

"Them." He gestured towards the outside. "The women and how close you are to becoming like them."

"You said I was a guest."

"That can always change." He informed her, reminding her of his earlier statement about how easily she could go from guest to slave. "As long as you continue to be compliant, then you are in no danger of becoming another piece of cattle."

Courier took a step forward, going to strangle him and only stopped herself at the last minute, taking a deep breath to cool her down.

"Are you ready to discuss your usefulness?"

"Now?"

"Now is as good a time as any."

She studied him, really studied him, remembering how earlier he had gone to grip his head only to stop. No doubt reminding himself that a show of weakness in front of not only his men but her wouldn't have been a very smart move. She wondered what he would do if she were to enquire about it, deciding that right now, while he had that look on his face, would not be the best time.

"I have one more task for you." He said, perching himself on the edge of her bed, patting the space beside him.

Reluctantly, she took it, forcibly reminding herself that she might be able to take him but in the middle of his camp, the numbers game would definitely catch up to her and very quickly. "What is it?"

"I want you to kill Robert House."

Now that was not what she had been expecting and Courier fought to keep the smirk from her face, finally bowing her head to hide her amusement. She had already killed that egocentric bastard. "How do you propose I do that?" She demanded coldly, still not looking at him.

"You are the only person to go inside the Lucky 38 since before the Great War, he trusts you to some extent and you are resourceful." He said flatly, reaching out to cup her chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "I'm sure you will think of something."

"Fine."

"That's it? You're not going to ask why?" He sounded amused.

"No, because to be honest, I don't care. I just want to get out of this without wearing rags and carting around baskets of shit."

"Of course," Randy murmured softly, considering that. "You of all people truly value your freedom; it is natural to be afraid of a possible future where you have none. Fearless, strong… and intelligent enough to know when to bite your tongue, if there ever was an ideal woman, you are it."

Courier didn't like where this line of conversation was heading, pretty sure she was beginning to understand his remark concerning her usefulness. "About House…"

"Kill him and return to me, you shall be rewarded properly."

Yeah, because once she was out of here she was going to come waltzing back, not likely. "Alright."

"You will come back." He added, correctly reading her mind and smirked slightly. "Don't forget that my eyes and ears are all over the Mojave as well as other locations. There is nowhere for you to run."

"Why would it matter if I ran? So long as I do the job, you shouldn't care."

"I care because you are valuable to me. Your strengths, skills and physical as well as mental traits are all of use to me."

Courier frowned, once again certain she was glimpsing where this was going, knowing it was coming.

"I have decided that you will be the woman who provides me an heir." He announced, ignoring it when her jaw dropped. "If you deliver me a healthy son, I will make you my consort. If you do not, or refuse…" He trailed off, knowing she already knew what would happen.

Courier was actually wishing she was back in the Sierra Madre.


	41. In Or Out

**A/N:** You guys rock! 167 reviews, dayum! Alright, I know in the last chapter I said I had no idea when this story would end. Today, I know. There's one more chapter to come and then This Is War is done. Obviously I can't leave it as is because there would be some serious plot holes but those will be wrapped up in the next story, which you will get details on in chapter 42.

**41: In Or Out**

Chris Jericho watched through his binoculars as former Chief River Brooks quickly made her way up the winding from leading away from Cottonwood Cove. His elite team of spies had been monitoring Brooks ever since she had reappeared in New Vegas and was seen talking with a man they believed to be a part of the Legion in some way.

If Brooks had turned sides, then the NCR needed to know and eliminate her. The woman was a serious liability and too dangerous to leave alone if she wasn't either neutral or with them. He remembered her quite well, they had been in command together, each with a unit beneath them but they had been equal in rank.

After the First Battle of Hoover Dam in 2277 and the death of her husband, she had left the NCR and wandered around aimlessly. At first, they had kept tabs on her simply because she had been much respected. She had been the youngest person in NCR history to assume the station she had held and she had made history by being part of the small tactical team to serve the Legion its first major defeat.

There were many other credits to her name, as well as some darker spots, but as far as high ranking officers, she had been one of the best.

If she had been parlaying with Caesar and getting into the Legion's way of thinking, then it was going to really suck for him because he would have to be the one to put her down. While they hadn't been bosom companions, after a rocky beginning they had been friendly towards each other.

"Sir?" Lt. Dumas broke into his thoughts, one of his hand-picked team members, her sniper scope trained on River.

"Stand down."

* * *

Courier was back to top shape, thanks to being made to stay at Fortification Hill for over a week and then taking advantage of having her shit back to get herself completely back in 100% health with her Stimpaks.

She had been more than happy to get the fuck out of there, knowing her food and drinks had been tampered with ever since Caesar had informed her of her future role as 'mother' and 'consort', not very pleased with either of those. She knew her food had been drugged because her personal slave –which had not been something that made her happy- had whispered it to her.

Fertility enhancers if she understood correctly. Herbal remedies meant to insure a woman got pregnant, as her late husband would have said: not cool.

As it was, she was free and she didn't care if Caesar had spies out in the Mojave, she wasn't coming back. Not after last night, not after the parting 'gifts' he had given her.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

She came to a sudden halt, swinging the rifle in her hands up and into the face of the man standing a few paces away. "Chris Jericho." She said upon recognizing him, not lowering the gun. She was now aware of the fact that she was surrounded by NCR Rangers, all of them wearing the standard black armor and dusters and all of them considered the top of the top. She would know, she had been considered among the best at one time. "You're a bit far from McArran."

"Being an actual official was boring." He replied, shouldering his own rifle. "I prefer field work, you know how that goes."

She nodded curtly, taking in each face. Some she recognized, some she didn't, including Lt. Amy Dumas. "I'm guessing you didn't stop me to catch up on the good old days." She said finally, sarcasm lacing her words.

"Mind your tongue civilian." Dumas ordered.

"Amy, stand your ass down." Chris sighed exasperatedly. "In fact, why don't you all take a hike? Head to Camp Forlorn Hope and I'll meet you there."

"But… Chief-"

"That's an order, Lieutenant."

Courier watched as the Rangers began walking away, finally turning back to Chris. "Well aren't they a friendly bunch."

"You're an unknown these days, River, they don't know what to think of you." He replied, gesturing for her to walk with him. "Of course, Amy will report me to my higher ups for a breech in protocol but… I'm going to assume you won't kill me?"

"Why in the blue hell would I kill you?" She demanded, falling into step with him. "Oh… you've been trailing me, haven't you?"

Chris flashed her a smile. "Does that surprise you? The minute you resurfaced in New Vegas, you were seen with who we suspect is one of the Legion's top men. We have to know which side you're batting for these days, River. You're not exactly a person who can…-"

"Be left alone if not batting for the NCR."

"Exactly. So?"

Courier just smirked slightly, finding this rather amusing in a sick sort of way. Everyone wanted to know what she was doing, what side she was playing for and it made her wonder if these bastards had anything better to do than worry about her. She wasn't that damn important.

Groaning at the amused look on her face, Chris walked away to drop down heavily on a dead log, mildly surprised it bore his weight. He pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from inside his duster, pulling one out and placed it between his lips before extending the pack to her.

Shrugging, she walked over to take one, easing herself on the log beside him.

Both of them let out sighs of relief when the log creaked piteously but still held.

Once he had politely lit her cigarette for her, Courier took a deep pull from it, fighting down a cough and ignored the smirk he shot her. She couldn't even remember the last time she had smoked, it had to of been back when she was seventeen and Phil had beat her damn near to hell and back for it. She had really hated him that day but now… now she found herself smiling as she thought about her brother. God but she _missed_ him.

"River?"

"Hmm? Oh… no Chris, I'm not working with the Legion. Caesar wanted to… meet me…" She said slowly, a slight frown creasing her brow. There was actually more to it than that but she wasn't about to elaborate to him. "He wants me to work for him but… not happening. I've never agreed with his stupid ideals and I'm not about to pretend I do now."

"And the NCR?"

At that she snorted, wondering if he was serious. "You of all people should know better. I never made my dislike for the NCR or how they do things hidden. I wouldn't work with the NCR now for anything in this world."

"Not even against Caesar?"

"No."

"I figured you'd say that."

"So what now?"

"What now is I go tell everyone you just want to be left alone and you don't prove me wrong."

She wondered if she could do that.

* * *

When the elevators opened, Shawn automatically looked up. The only person who came to check in with Yes Man was John, so he was expecting to see the ex-NCR sniper walking down the stairs. Instead he found Katy standing at the head of the steps, smiling down at him.

He pushed himself up from his sitting position near the stage that held the computer equipment and large screen that Yes Man sometimes frequented and damn near ran up the stairs. As soon as he was able to, he pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair. "Don't you ever do that to me again." He ordered in a low growl.

"No promises." She whispered, pressing her face against his chest, inhaling deeply.

Yes Man had started to say something but for once stopped himself, seeing the two humans beginning to disrobe each other. He blinked out, giving them their privacy.

* * *

"We need to talk."

John, Melina and Jeff all looked up when they heard Courier. Jeff just scowled at her, wondering how she could just waltz in here and say that in her commanding tone, not even caring that her friends had been worried about her. How could she not even ask about John? Who he and Shawn had patched up after their incident at the Sierra Madre? The woman had no heart.

John was just relieved to see her alive and in one piece.

Melina took another swallow from her ever present flask.

Shawn stood at Courier's side, his face carefully blank.

"I think it's time you guys know what I've been doing, why I'm doing it and then… make your decision."

"Decision about what?" Melina demanded, still debating on whether or not she wanted to punch her friend for making her freak out so much over the past month.

"On if you're in or out."


	42. This Is War

**A/N:**  
Well, here we are, at the end. I kept bouncing around on when I thought this story would end and had no idea until the other day. The ideas mounting up were just too many to continue on one story, that and what comes next really kinda deserves a story of its own. Banner/visual teaser link can be found in my profile, it's called Hurricane. Imaginary cookies to anyone who can tell me the cast :P

**42: This Is War**

_A warning to the people  
The good and the evil  
This is war_

_To the soldier, the civilian_  
_The martyr, the victim_  
_This is war_

John was the first to speak over Courier had laid out everything. The five had gathered in the dining room, maps and schematics lay out on the table. They were all seated. Courier at the head of the table, Shawn sitting beside her to the right, Melina in the middle on the left side, Jeff next to her while John was seated across from Courier. All eyes were fixed on the Courier.

"All this time, this is what you've been planning?" He asked, his voice calm and steady.

"No." She shook her head, meeting his gaze head on. "Not all this time. I had no idea what I was going to do until… well, until walking back from Cottonwood Cove. I have the resources and the ability to do it, so I will."

"This is… a lot to take in." Jeff was simply staring at her, a mixture of admiration and shock on his face. He had always pegged her for a cold-blooded woman, even though he had known her the least amount of time. The one time he had approved of her had been the day she had shown concern for children who were disappearing off the street. "If you are serious about this, if this is truly what you want, then I am with you."

Courier arched both eyebrows, looking surprised but nodded, a faint smile curving her lips.

"Hell, I've been with you for how long now? I've seen you take on some of the baddest motherfuckers in the Mojave, I'm staying just to see if you can pull this one off." Melina smirked wickedly, toasting her friend with her flask.

Now she was outright laughing, shaking her head. "You're something else, Melina, where would I be without you?"

"I ask myself that every day."

"John?"

He was still staring at her, reaching up to rub his right arm, an action that made Courier wince. "You're going to take them both on and you think you can win."

"I know I can win." Courier corrected calmly.

He simply nodded.

_It's the moment of truth and the moment to lie  
The moment to live and the moment to die  
The moment to fight, the moment to fight  
To fight, to fight, to fight!_

_To the right, to the left  
We will fight to the death  
To the edge of the earth  
It's a brave new world  
From the last to the first_

"You know that being in that position of power, Katy…" Shawn began after everyone else had agreed to stay on board. "You know what they say about power."

"That it corrupts."

"Yes. So what's going to make you any better than House, the NCR or Caesar?"

"Because I don't want to rule or own anything or anyone. Besides," She gestured around the table to them. "I have you four watching me and making sure I don't overstep my boundaries."

He snorted at that, reaching out to squeeze her hand gently. "Honey, since when have you ever listened to any of us?"

"True."

"That's what a gunshot to the back of the head is for." John put in, smiling wickedly though when Courier shot him a look, he winked at her. In the relatively short amount of time they had known each other, they had already formed a bond, something nobody else would ever understand, forged in the trials they had overcome together.

"So… I guess it's settled then." Melina said, breaking into the silence that had ensued after John's comment, looking at each face around the table. "We're all going to hell, you know that?"

"Who says we're not in hell already?" Jeff asked, looking completely serious.

_A warning to the prophet  
The liar, the honest  
This is war_

_To the leader, the pariah_  
_The victor, the messiah_  
_This is war_

"There'll be casualties." John cautioned, staring through the glass pane, watching as more Securitrons were built. After their little 'meeting' Courier had asked him to join her, leaving the others to do what they would. In Melina's case that had been to retire to the bathtub with a bottle of whiskey. Jeff and Shawn had gone to the Fort to speak with Julie Farkas and the King, two people with power inside of Freeside.

"There would be casualties regardless John, hopefully we can keep it to a minimum." She replied, watching with him. Beneath Fortification Hill she had discovered that not only did the Platinum chip upgrade the existing Securitrons to be damn near undefeatable but also started the program to create more. At first she had worried about this, not wanting millions of these things to be running around and risk possibly losing control of them.

That fear had been alleviated by Yes Man informing her that he controlled the Securitrons and she controlled him. All she had to do was say the word and he would implement their self-destruct.

"You really think we can do this?"

"You don't think we should?"

He smiled faintly, still not looking at her. "Remember what you once told me about the NCR? The idea itself is good but the enactment is flawed."

Courier didn't say a word. John had made a good point and it was one she had already thought of. It was the one doubt she still had.

As if sensing her doubt, he reached out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

_It's the moment of truth and the moment to lie  
The moment to live and the moment to die  
The moment to fight, the moment to fight  
To fight, to fight, to fight!_

_To the right, to the left_  
_We will fight to the death_  
_To the edge of the earth_  
_It's a brave new world_  
_From the last to the first_

Courier stood on the penthouse balcony, gripping the railing as she stared down into New Vegas. She could see NCR troopers as well as her Securitrons patrolling the streets. There were also residents and locals milling around, a few Chairmen and of course the hookers.

Just outside the gates, in Freeside, she knew the less fortunate resided along with the King and his gang. Thanks to Jeff's influence she now had an appointment with him to discuss the future of Freeside. Not that he knew exactly it was her in charge. Outside of her little circle, no one did, everyone still believed that House was alive and that was the way it would remain.

She knew they were in for a long, hard road. Eventually, she would have to have the NCR removed from New Vegas. They would become a serious threat once the truth of her allegiance came out. She wasn't allied with the Legion but the NCR would see that she was also a threat to them. Not that she wanted to go out and kill a bunch of people even if they were NCR dickheads, but she also knew that they would never allow her to live once everything was out in the open.

Then she also had the Legion. More specifically, Caesar. Or Randy, he had told her his birth name had been Randy. Why he had told her, she had no idea. It was the when that had bothered her, sincerely hoping the guy didn't honestly think she was going to come back. It would be a cold day in hell before she bore him a child and she had already taken the precaution to make sure she hadn't conceived.

Considering she had already tried killing the man a time or two, she had a feeling this wasn't going to set well with him at all. She allowed herself a cruel smile though, knowing that when he discovered the little surprise she had left him at Fortification Hill, or rather underneath it, it would be too late for him then.

Then there was 'Taker. As always, he was never very far from her thoughts and she knew the man would haunt her until her dying day, or his. Which if she had her way, would come long before her passing. He had changed drastically, not that he wasn't always a bastard anyway.

He had been the one to call things off between them and then shown up years later… with rage burning in his eyes, like she had done him some personal wrong. For the life of her, she never did figure out what it was. Now… now they played a cat and mouse game but she knew it was coming to an end. As all things did.

Once all these enemies had been dispatched, then things could truly begin to change. It would get much, much worse before it got better but that was the nature of change such as this. She only hoped none of them were swallowed by the dark days ahead.

_I do believe in the light  
Raise your hands into the sky  
The fight is done, the war is won  
Lift your hands toward the sun  
Toward the sun  
Toward the sun  
Toward the sun  
The war is won_

"You know, I should probably stop calling you Katy."

Courier whirled around, pressing a hand over her now racing heart and managed a weak smile. "You startled me."

Looking both amused and apologetic, Shawn stepped forward onto the balcony with her, placing his hands on her waist. "I'm sorry, River."

She frowned, wondering why he was calling her that. Granted, it was her actual name, but he had always called her Katy, from day one and she rather liked it. Of course, she had also taken to calling herself Courier and liked that as well, she was strange. "Why not Katy?"

"Because Katy was a name I gave a woman with no memory and no idea of which end was up. She was a woman I guess I hoped I could keep."

Courier's frown deepened, really hoping he wasn't about to go where she thought he was.

"You're no Katy, honey. You are definitely a River, or Courier if you prefer. You're strong, brave and a bit too damn smart for your own good. And while I have you, there's no way I can keep you."

"Shawn…"

He brushed his lips against hers to silence her. "I'm not saying I'm leaving, River. I'm just saying that one day, this… us, I don't think it'll be enough for you. Or maybe it'll be too much for me. I hope I'm wrong, God do I hope I'm wrong."

"Why are you saying these things?" She whispered, tilting her head back to meet his eyes.

Shawn smiled slightly. "Because someday, sooner than later, I'd like to go back to Goodsprings and settle back down, honey. Preferably with you and a rugrat or two."

She blinked at that.

"But you found yourself a cause here, something to fight for again and I don't see you settling down, not long-term and not with a guy like me."

"Shawn… that's not… true…" She said weakly, feeling it deep in her heart that he might be right and truly hated it. "Maybe not right now, but later, things always change."

"That they do, which is why I'm going anywhere and why I'll help you through this war. I'm the kind of guy who likes to look for that light at the end of the tunnel."

Courier leaned back against the railing, pulling him flush against her. "Good."

"Just don't get shot in the head again." He ordered, bending down to kiss her.

"No promises." She whispered against his lips, both of them smiling slightly.

_To the right, to the left  
We will fight to the death  
To the edge of the earth  
It's a brave new world  
It's a brave new world  
It's a brave new world_


End file.
